Michael Munas (michaelboy) wrote,
Michael Munas

Just like smashing caps on the sidewalk

I remember her washing clothes in the Maytag and the smell of hot sudsy Tide and Clorox water. The small basement windows would fog and it always felt safe – even when I got my hand caught in the wringer - mainly because she and dad made the decisions. Her health was never great, with years of smoking and a wretched back, but she did make it to eighty. She called me names like “Bizzer” - which has no specific meaning other than love. All of it is gone, except for her laundry stick and of course one other thing.
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