Beautiful simplicity

As I hung the washing out this morning using my Nan's old wooden pegs, I thought about all those years she spent hanging out her washing.  Her children's  (my dad and my auntie) baby clothes and nappies, Granddad's shirts and trousers, her skirts and tights, their sheets and blankets.  All those years serving her family and her husband.  Then I remembered my Granddad, after she'd died, struggling to hang out the washing, struggling on his unresponsive legs.  Refusing help.  Such a lonely figure, determined to carry on.  Rigging up a pulley system so that he could hang out the washing sat down.  Anything to prolong his independence.  He's in a nursing home now, someone else does his laundry.  All he has now are his memories of his beloved wife, and of course he still has his children and grandchildren who love him very much.

It was sad and beautiful all at the same time.  I must admit I filled up a bit, and my eyes are filling now.  Memories are our anchor to the past, the things that make us who we are, our link to the beloved ones in our lives.  These pegs may just be bits of wood, but they make me remember and be glad for the blessing of family, of serving, and the simple things of life.

I treasure my bag of wooden pegs.