If this were a real fancy blog, I would have posted a picture of a sink full of dishes (before and after) with my hands somewhere in view, and a song by Marta Gomez called manos de mujeres all linked up for your listening pleasure. It's not a fancy blog, well, it's barely a blog, so I'll be happy if one or two of you are reading it at all.
So it's been a couple of years since I have lived in a home that doesn't have a dishwasher. (gasp!) it's almost unheard of these days, but no big deal. I grew up in a home with 7 people. We were the dishwashers. Emphasize dish, my brothers were not pots and pans washers. I didn't know how convenient one could be! In fact, I didn't even really know how to use one properly. I may or may not have needed the maintenance guy to come look at our leaky dishwasher the first week I was married.
I eventually became very dependent! Now I'm back to daily dishwashing and my hands are ever dirty dishwater hands. I am not complaining, however, I am reflective on how little we actually need(by we I mean me). I'm in a less is more place in my life right now. Firstly, out of necesssity, secondly, because I figure I might as well learn something while I'm here.
I have plenty to think about while I stand over the sink. In my mind's eye I think of all the hands that have served me. The hands that rolled out the masa for fresh homemade tortillas. The hands that would iron freshly washed and dried clothes. The ones that would wipe away my tears. The hands that would clasp together at the end of the day to give thanks and pray.. The hands that would braid my hair. The hands that would be placed on my head for blessings of health and comfort. The hands that placed my children in my arms as soon as they were born. The hands that caress my face. The hands that effortlessly slip in to mine, and suddenly the dishes are washed, rinsed, dried and carefully put away. It isn't that way every time I wash dishes, but I am reminded often of how much I have, even when it seems that I have little.
