Jean & Dishes

This morning I watched Jean, from her wheelchair, empty the sink & fill the dishwasher.

Not irritated with the fact that after an absence of little under four days, I had not cleaned up what was residual.

I told her that I would take care of it. 

She said, I need to do this.  I want to do this.

It was hard to watch.  It was painful to watch.  But she did it.

She knew, because she knows me, that I would l go behind her & rearrange the utensils & plates & bowls & glasses & storage dishes in the dishwasher.  I did this long before she was in a walker or wheelchair.

I give her an empty dishwasher & she fills it with our dirty dishes & utensils & pots & pans.  To be cleaned.

She contributes & then she gives me something greater, more important, nurturing & lovely.

She will say nothing about the fact that I rearrange the dishwasher, except to smile in jest.

Jean gave me the freedom to rearrange.

She always has.

I love that woman.  My mother.