The Kitchen Sink

It’s somewhat scary how memories work…

Kitchen SinkJust a few minutes ago I topped off my coffee and turned to rinse out the sink. In a flash my memories open up to a scene of my Grandmother Simmons standing at her sink, her gnarled arthritic hands grasping a wash rag, and scrubbing the sink clean. The smell of a cleaner, probably Comet… The image of her bent down as she scrubbed away the grime… The rinsed out rag draping over the middle of the two sinks, drying out.

And in my mind I see that satisfied look on her face of a job well done.

Where did that memory come from? How did it pop into my mind just a few minutes ago?

Partly, it may be, that I just read that one of the heaviest bacteria laden surfaces in the house is probably around the sink.

Again, it may be that I had just cleaned our sink and thinking the job well done? Or maybe, why do I have to clean it again?

It matters little the reason, but I stood back and let my mind walk down multiple paths of memories. This is how my mind works, and, I suspect – yours does also!

Grandmother memories took me to Granddad as he walked that lanky and limber way down the macadam road of Lake Murvaul. My Mom sitting on the living room floor playing “hug a hug a handful” with us kids. My Dad, in a moment at a roadside park, letting us kids run to him as he’s stretched out on the grass and he flips us over his head. My wife, in those younger years, wearing that bandana at the horse pasture. My son, intently leaning over a pad of paper and drawing some character scene. My daughter, walking with me down the wedding aisle as we shared a joke to keep from crying.

I would, if I could, ask you to stop for a moment and really, really think about a memory lane of your past. Enjoy it.

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