Lenten Reflections #23
I’ve taken apart our washing machine three times. The rattling finally got to me. So one day when everyone was out and it was just ME and THE SOUND, I was determined to find the culprit.
I’m really good at taking things apart. Putting them back together, however, is not my forté. But with Youtube and one phone call, I am usually able to tackle most DIY tasks.
So who is on the receiving end of the phone when the task seems Herculean and the Youtube video experts are using tools I’ve never heard of?
Mom and Dad.
My parents grew up with a no waste, fix things yourself and don’t overspend mindset. They have amazing habits I wish I had absorbed, things like wrapping cords neatly after using a vacuum, mixer or drill. Instead, I tackle the tangles, say choice words, and get frustrated with my laziness.
Ever since college, I’ve called my parents when there was a question about fixing, mending, or anything else pertaining to life. On the life questions, Dad is always ready to give his opinion and Mom, well she has some magical way of keeping the ball in my court so I ultimately make the decision.
In a sense, they were and still are MY GOOGLE.
So I call when:
- I forget how to refill the bobbin for the sewing machine (always)
- I need help to remove the drain thingy out of the sink to clean the drain,
- I need to fix the fridge and forgot the hair dryer trick,
- I can’t recall how long I blend chili pods when making red chili (long),
- I’m having a day when I feel I should craft my speech for the worst mom in the world award and need a boost…
They are my go-to’s for wisdom-packed answers, realistic advice, and no-nonsense words to keep me grounded.
In the family spirit of DIY, I tackle fixing things and don’t stress about putting them back together because I can still dial my childhood home where until recently you could still hear a busy signal!
Home. Where I learned to set the thermostat low and put on a sweater. Home. Where the phone attached to the wall with the long cord can still be stretched into the pantry for privacy. Home. Where you grow your own tomatoes, make your own tortillas and sit out on the patio and talk. Just talk. Home. Where mom picks up the phone at her leisure and dad dives for it like he’s pressing the buzzer to answer a question first on Family Feud. Because he loves to connect. And listen. And help. They both do.
So when I call my parents, we catch up, work on a few projects over the phone, and chat about sending some of Georgia’s rain to settle New Mexico’s dust. The day I called about the washing machine, we found a flattened souvenir penny from Stone Mountain Park that DID NOT cost one cent. The next two times it was a guitar pick and a very shiny penny.
The clicking finally stopped in the washing machine, but I pray the phone will continue to ring in my parent’s home for many years to come. As Dad says, if he doesn’t know, “Check the Internet”. I guess that’s a good Plan B.
Spiritual Workout: Go to Adoration and embrace the silence and solitude.
Workout: 30-second high plank, 30-second low plank, 30-second wall sit, 30-second Superman. Repeat 5 times.
runonmom.com 