A Sliver of Soap

So many things and so many memories. Tonight, in the shower, I realized we needed a new bar of soap. When we were cleaning out Mom's apartment, we found a ziploc sandwich bag with a sliver of soap in it. My sisters and I laughed because we knew Mom would have replaced the soap in the bathroom because a visitor was coming but kept the little piece for herself to use at some time in the future. Growing up, you had to use down until you were practically rubbing your washcloth on the dish. Now, Mom probably wouldn't have ever gotten around to using that soap since it was out of the bathroom, no matter how long she lived, but she kept it anyway, just in case. Sharon smiled about the soap and said, "I love her."

It is the idiosyncratic traits of people that make them who they are. My sisters and I could sit down and tell everyone each of the things about Mom that drove us crazy. We'd also tell you, on the same breath, how much we wish she were still here doing them. Like the soap, or the fact that she never kept enough extra toilet paper in the bathroom, and her tendency to be completely penny-pinching when you ran to the store with her money and almost meeting  you at the door demanding change and then at another time, giving an incredibly extravagant gift for no reason. I know my children are going to miss her generosity. It seems like every time she came over, until the last months, she would have picked up a little something for them. This has led me to buying way more for them since Mom died than I ever would have before. It's like I don't want to tell them no about stuff because it is something I can do, whereas I can't ever give them another grandparent. Now, I realize the danger of this trend and I will be pulling back before I have little monsters. But, for now, it's fun to see them smile and we haven't had to resort to living on credit, yet.

The gym membership is, in a way, a nod to our loss as well. It has a pool the kids can swim in since they can't go to Nana's pool anymore. Even in the last few months, she would have them over to swim every couple of weeks while I went to boot camp. The first time, they swam over there, Mom and I discussed at length not letting Kelsey go underwater in the hot tub because of that horrible story a few years ago where the little girl's hair got stuck in the drain and she drowned. So the next time I dropped the kids off, as I was leaving Mom said, "Hey Nancy," and when I looked over she gave me a a big smile and flashed the pair of sewing scissors she'd tucked into her towel. I really miss that smile. When she had a joke or something funny she always made sure to share it, even as sighed and said, "mom," in that voice of the long-suffering child.

So what did I do about that little piece of soap in my shower tonight? No, it isn't in a plastic bag but it's still sitting there, right under the new bar of soap. I guess I'll have to wait on a guest before I get rid of it or maybe I'll save it so my kids can roll their eyes about their mom after I'm gone.