Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
Mother’s Day: 2023
My mother taught me how to iron. And how to break big jobs into little pieces to avoid being overwhelmed. She would leave a list of tasks on the kitchen counter on a sturdy piece of paper with a pencil stuck through it so it stood up nice and smart and I would be sure to see it. She would write bathroom sink – 15 cents, toilet – 20 cents, kitchen floor mop – 25 cents, wax another 10 cents. If she had promised $5 to clean the whole house, I’d have laid down on my bed in defeat. She knew this about me. About herself. Being overwhelmed was always something right around the corner. It was paralyzing so we wanted to avoid it at all costs.
Her ironing was a thing of beauty. She ironed on Tuesday. That’s because she did the wash on Monday. So, when she took things in off the clothesline, she folded things that weren’t ironed, like underwear and t-shirts, and then sprinkled the rest with water using a Coke bottle with a sprinkler cork. Then, she would roll up each to-be-ironed piece of clothing and then stack all the rolls in a laundry basket. Then, she would turn on the Army McCarthy hearings, pull out one roll at a time, and iron away. She ironed handkerchiefs, pillowcases (but not sheets), my father’s dress shirts, which were really his appliance salesman shirts, all our dresses, and my brother’s corduroy pants. She wore a shirtwaist while ironing, with buttons down the front and a fabric belt.
My mother also taught me just to start supper without necessarily knowing what I would cook. When I was older, long after the Army McCarthy hearings, and I called her at work after school to ask what to start for supper, she would say, “Well, peel some potatoes.” So, I would peel potatoes and set them to boiling and then trust, like she did, that somehow the rest of dinner would take shape. It always did, although there was a fair amount of redundancy. We loved hamburgers in mushroom soup an awful lot. I took her peel potatoes instruction like I did her task list. Don’t get overwhelmed. Just do one thing. Start.
There are other things my mother taught me that are much harder to describe. I learned to turn down the bed for someone coming back from a run to the emergency room. I learned to ask, “What’s the matter?” and never get an answer. I learned that she wouldn’t come to events at school, but she would stay up all night sewing a Pilgrim costume for me. I learned how to get up before dawn to roast a Thanksgiving turkey to load in the trunk of the car and drive three hours to our hometown. I learned that she could heal me by stroking my forehead with her soft hands. I learned to be melancholy. Wistful. And to wear jeans rolled up.
I ironed a red shirt yesterday. It made me miss my mother.
12 Comments on “Mother’s Day: 2023”
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Listen to Jan read her essay “Billy” presented on WUWM’s Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “At the Breakfast Bar” on WUWM Lake Effect
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“Fury Cannot Touch Me,” Modern Love, NYT, 9/29/11
My mother had a mangle. She ironed all our sheets on it, but also the bodies and arms of blouses and legs of pants. Then we would stand at the drop-down ironing board in our utility room and iron the collars, cuffs, and any parts the mangle missed. It was a production line. We definitely learned how to iron! I still remember the smell of the hot steam coming out of the iron and the hiss of the iron on cotton.
My mother hand a mangle, too! I just now remembered that with your comment. Big scary machine. Now I’m wondering what it was she pressed in it. Thanks for reminding me!
You are the only other person I’ve ever met whose mother had a mangle!!! I think we had the only one in town. She always pressed our sheets..and any part of any other clothing that could be run through without wrinkling. definitely slacks and sleeves of blouses..
Now I’m wondering if my mother ironed the sheets. I remember the wringer washer and the mangle next to it in the basement. Hmmmm.
That seems like a contradiction: wringer washer and mangle. My friend’s mother used a wringer washer in the basement as well..and their only toilet and shower were in the unfinished basementas well, along with the coal furnace and coal bin! This for a family of 7!!
The toilet had only a plastic shower curtain in front of it and you could never be sure what traffic would pass in front of it as you sat there trying to pee quietly!!
I think my mother told her best stories while she ironed. Endless. Basically exactly like YOUR mother. Maybe it was a generational thing. And yes, the radio was on and I remember the hearings too. We are the same age, more or less I suppose.
We are – and it’s funny what has stuck in our heads.
Those are my first memories of war and America in it. And I remember them more clearly than I remember yesterday.
Beautiful tribute. …and, of course, evoked memories – not just of my mother, but my early ironing days, too. THANK YOU!
I love ironing when it isn’t necessary. It’s very relaxing.
what wonderful life lessons and memories –