A contribution for Three Word Wednesday.
Burdens come in many different forms
Sometimes they seem ubiquitous
It’s natural to want to avoid them - but do we really want to?
The kitchen sink was clogged again. Helen pulled on a pair of Marigolds and pushed up her sleeves. It was nice to have some help with clearing the table after breakfast, but when would John learn that he couldn’t just toss the plates into the water complete with bits of cornflakes and raisins from the muesli? Didn’t he know that Henry always hid a few under his spoon? Oh, great … today there were tea leaves in here as well. A great swirl of them rose up as she began to work the blockage loose under the soapsuds. She was going to have to get a bowl, though heaven knew, it was easier to wash up in the sink, and it was one more thing to clean and dry afterwards.
As she worked, Helen considered the burden of running a home. It was so different from living at home and helping out. It was even different from sharing a student flat and all pitching in. Now that she was a stay-at-home Mum and Henry had started nursery school, she really had time to consider how everything had suddenly landed squarely on her shoulders.
By the time the kitchen sink was cleared of both debris and dirty dishes, Helen had begun to feel quite sorry for herself. Next up was the washing, or none of them would have anything to wear by tomorrow, what with the rate Henry managed to spread dirt, and then she must clear out the fridge and run down to the shops for groceries or they would be eating baked beans for lunch, dinner and tea. Would there be time after that to do anything else before picking Henry up? Helen doubted it, but if she didn’t get to the vegetable plot soon and thin the seedlings, nothing would grow to full size. In fact, unless she watered it today, it would all die anyway. The vacuuming and dusting would just have to wait - again - or she’d run out of time.
If, but, or! Helen’s head was full of those three little words these days, if she didn’t do one thing, something else would go wrong. And if she didn’t, well often, if she didn’t, no-one did.
She opened the washing machine and threw the next load in, hastily tossed the wet laundry into the drier, then grabbed her car keys and the shopping bags and headed out.
Oh, blast it. The tax disc glared at her from the windscreen, it’s very blueness accusing her of one more task left undone. And wasn’t she supposed to be getting a passport renewal form for John, too? If he couldn’t fly because of her forgetfulness, he’d be in trouble at work, and her name would be mud! She supposed it was natural that he should rely on her to do these things, since she was ‘at home all day’, but right now it felt quite overwhelming.
She glanced at her watch. It was ten past twelve already! Man, she was going to have to fly round the supermarket to get Henry by one, and she’d have no time to bring the shopping home first. Was she supposed to be ubiquitous, she wondered, bitterly. Clearly, it was the only way she was going to fit everything in.
Coming back home with Henry safely strapped in his car seat, and munching happily on a large pear, Helen hoped the ice cream hadn’t melted. She’d got to the nursery school just in time, but she’d had to wait for Henry after all, because they couldn’t find his coat - apparently he’d put it on the wrong peg and someone had thrown it into the lost property box. It was a small thing, but these days it only took a small thing to send her over the edge. She thought she could actually feel her hair turning grey, strand by strand, draining the life out of her with it. At this rate, she’d be turning into an old hag, any day now. Old, uncertain, weak in body and frazzled of mind.
She unstrapped Henry, helped him down, and fished for her key. No sooner had she got the front door open than she could hear the phone ringing. There was no help for it, it would have to go to the answering machine and she’d get back to whoever it was once she’d got Henry and the shopping safely inside and settled.
‘Hello, love,’ the voice of her mother carried, boomy and cracked through the phone’s loudspeaker. ‘Are you still alright to take me to the hospital this afternoon? I can get a taxi, if you like, but I just thought I’d ring and check. I know how busy you are. Perhaps you could let me know … ?’
Helen slammed the front door shut behind Henry and sprinted for the phone, snatching it up just in time.
‘Hey, Mum!’
‘Oh, hello, dear, you sound a little out of breath - have you just come in?’
‘Yes, but it’s OK’. Helen tucked her hair back out of her eyes and sat on the arm of a chair. ‘Of course I’m taking you to the hospital. Don’t be silly. I can’t let you go by yourself, not when you’re so worried.’
‘But I don’t want to be a nuisance,’ her mother said, anxiously. ‘You have young Henry to look after. I’m sure he won’t want to be dragged all over the place, and you’ll need to be back in time to get John’s tea’.
‘Mum. You’re not a nuisance, and Henry is going over to play with his friend James. John knows I might be late, he’s fine with that. I’ll pick you up at half past two, okay?’
As she put the phone down, Helen gave a wry smile. ‘Well, there you have it’, she said to a wide-eyed Henry, gazing at her over his pear core with juice running down his chin. ‘Everything is relative, isn’t it? I get all worked up about tea leaves in the sink, and yet when it comes to the important things, I find I can make time.’
‘Some people,’ she said, as she wiped his chin, and picked up a tin of beans for their lunch, ‘Some people might call an elderly and disabled mother a burden. But Granny isn’t a burden, is she?’
‘No,’ said Henry, firmly. ‘What’s a burden?’