Laundry Day

As we approach Mother's Day I find myself thinking about my mother much more than usual. Like today as I try to complete yesterday's laundry task. I have a Mount Everest of clean clothes, which is preferable to the Mount Everest of dirty clothes. However, they still need to be folded and stored. I do this with a washer and dryer for a family of three. My mom did it by hand for a family of seven. During a water shortage she took them to the river, 1.5 hours on foot each way.

I am certain next week's load will join the current load on the bed. Even as I say this, I rejoice that there is now a more equitable distribution of this task in our home as everyone is now responsible for their laundry. However, I still do the laundry for the common areas, but even this part of laundry day is currently under review as I want my family to realize we are all responsible for keeping the house clean.

Today I am working from home, while completing household and childcare tasks. These are three separate jobs. Mostly unpaid, and yes, at times under-appreciated. Hence my vigilant division of labor of late. I no longer confuse love with labor. While women's housework and childcare are acknowledged publicly as unpaid labor, very little has been done world-wide to change this. In fact, change does not occur without disruption, such as happened on October 24, 1975 when 90% of Icelandic women refused to do such work for a day. The value of this kind of labor globally in 2019 would have been $10.9 trillion, according to Oxfam. This was more than the combined revenue of the largest 50 Fortune Global 500 countries (Wezerek and Ghodsee, 2020). Gender parity will not come without a fight. Those of us who are able to make shifts in our personal lives should do so. Not everyone has this privilege.

My mom did more than she should have and used the almost-martyrdom and guilt trips to get us to comply. I tried that too. Doesn't work. She died without experiencing much of the joy life could offer. I am not one of those who find joy in housework and likely never shall. I have learned that sometimes you have to hunt for happiness. I don't hold much stock in the brand of happiness that lands lightly as a butterfly on my shoulder when I least expect it. But I'm a master at creating the life I want. I have multiple iterations to prove it.

My mom grew up at a time and in a place that made it difficult for her to do otherwise than what she did. She loved her family and took joy in serving them. I love my family but I've learned that service must be in the bounds of common sense, good health and practicality. I have what she didn't: Opportunity.

I am grateful for her sacrifice because it allowed me to get to this point in my life. She would be proud. And it is because of her sacrifice that I am removing my cape and handing it to someone else in the household to wash and store. Because I wore it for them too.