Dishes

I'm going to toss an apology for my radio silence out there. In one sense, as I've said, this blog is really a form of therapy for me. Writing about Janet makes me feel as if she's still around. Which, I suppose in a way, she is. As I've said, her presence is felt everywhere. If nothing else, were it not for her, Molly would no doubt be sleeping and shedding on the living room couch right now.

But last week was the one month point since we said goodbye, and a bad weekend stretched into a bad week. That's just how it is, I suppose. But it was hard to write for a while. And I'll admit that all the little things that indicate that life is going on went out the window for a few days. I found myself staring at a huge wonking pile of dishes in the sink, despite the fact that we have a dishwasher.

Then I remembered that it was hardly as if the dishes never piled up in happier days. I mean, this is the girl who I'd come home to after a four day trip and find stacked up pizza boxes on top of the dog crate. As I may have mentioned, neither of us were particularly Susie Homemaker types. Well, we did have a dog named Susie who'd mop the kitchen floor, but I suspect Better Homes and Garden wouldn't have approved of her methods. Slurp.

The realization cheered me up, at least enough to metaphorically roll up the sleeves and get to work on the mess. And while I was scrubbing away, I could hear her singing a song she'd often sing after dinner (if I cooked, she'd promise to clean). It went to the tune of There Is a Tavern in the Town:

Leave the dishes in the sink (in the sink)
Leave the dishes in the sink (in the sink)
Those dirty plates will have to wait
Tonight we're going to celebrate
So, leave the dishes in the sink!