I still do a slight double take when I see it. I usually don’t allow myself to dwell on it, because I really don’t have time to cry! But I still think about it. Oh, it’s a quick thought. The wonderful brain – more high tech than Dell’s latest computer – can complete the thought in a nanosecond or less, but it’s still a thought. As I’m hanging up the laundry, methodically slipping garments onto hangers, placing others into the laundry basket for folding and then, clipping the skirts onto hangers – that’s when I see it. “It” is a wooden clothespin that says “DAD”. That’s it. It’s enough to bring tears to my eyes, or at the least, give me pause and a flash back in time.
When I was little, my Mom hung up our skirts using wooden clothespins – the fancy kind, with springs! She would also take a clothespin and write our names on them. We had Ron, Carolyn, Kevin, Melanie, and Valerie all spelled out neatly in my Mom’s superb penmanship. These “name tags” would be clipped to our bath towels so we could hang them up to dry and keep them separate, thereby allowing the use of the towel for two or three days instead of just one. I just loved seeing my name written out so perfectly by my Mom! She had a special way of writing “Valerie” that made it seem important! Maybe it was just because she was Mom!
The last time I saw my Dad alive was in May of 2004. He came to our home in Topeka, Kansas with my Mom, to help us move from Topeka, to nearby Lawrence. During their visit, I made the appropriate “name tags” for them. I had MOM and DAD spelled out neatly (though not as beautifully as Mom’s handwriting) on two clothespins, each to be clipped to the corresponding towel. I can still see them hanging in the little bathroom at my house on Webster Avenue!
I know it’s probably silly to you. I still have the clothespins from their stay so long ago.When I see the clothespin that says “DAD”, I think of more than just my last visit with Dad on this shore. I think of my happy childhood days, where my home was peacefully buzzing along with activity. I can see Mom at the dryer, working quickly to hang up our clean clothes. I see Dad watching TV in front of the roaring fireplace. I remember the marshmallows we’d roast over the fire. I think of the time Dad said I couldn’t watch Alfred Hitchcock’s “Psycho” because it would give me nightmares…but then he proceeded to tell me about it frame by frame! I remember the times he read aloud to me from books about the Presidents, and I think of Mom reading to me from The Story of Helen Keller. She would always tear up when we got to the part where Helen realizes the W-A-T-E-R is the cold liquid in her hand. I remember the special trip we made to the library so I could look up who invented the air conditioner. (It was William Carrier by the way.)
I will never forget the time, when I was 8, that I broke a decorative mirror Mom had bought from Home Interiors. I was pretending to ice skate on it. The reflection reminded me very much of the shimmer of ice! Well, I was too big for it and it cracked in two places! Thankfully, I did not get a spanking for it! I guess they just decided to have mercy on me, because it was a silly thing to do!

I could go on and on…so many precious memories flood my mind!

And all because of a clothespin.