The Good Towels - Aug 26 2022

 

The Good Towels

Aug 26 2022

It was one of her “good” towels,

the kind you weren't allowed

to take to the beach

or were saved for guests.

I was gifted a few

when I left home

after high school,

and now, decades on

they survive;

threadbare

edges frayed\colour mostly washed out.

Consigned

to the back of the closet,

or reduced to dog towels

if not demoted to rags.

Not to mention the aluminum pot

and wonky percolator.

Even a spatula

with a damaged handle

where the ancient plastic

has brittled and cracked.

My mother was frugal, if she was anything.

Born almost a century ago,

she was a child of the Depression

adolescent during the war.

The dirty 30s,

which I imagine

to today's generation

are just a footnote in the history books,

but for her

always loomed large.

So the unused percolator stays,

collecting dust

like a museum piece

that's never on display.

And the spatula

with the Bakelite handle

is in its permanent resting place,

buried in the junk drawer

under used batteries

and lengths of string.

Because you never know.

And when I dry the dogs

I can't help but feel

a bittersweet nostalgia,

the premium towels

she got such a deal on

at the outlet store in Buffalo.

She never could bear

to throw anything out.

Could never resist a deal,

no matter how much

the savings cost.