We've had the same set of bright striped beach towels for eighteen years. My mom bought everyone in the family their own signature color combo for our last annual family lake vacation. Her towel went mostly unused. She slept the better part of the week away. Her body was betraying her and I can only imagine the state of her spirit after being told days before that there was nothing more to do, but enjoy her final weeks. It was a missive we all found daunting, but we tried. We tried for Lily and Teddy who were 4 and 7 at the time. We tried for my mom who was equal parts stoic and scared as she was slipping away. We tried for our own self-preservation because life in those final, fragile weeks was a fever dream. One we hoped and prayed to wake up from. There would be no Thank God...that was just a dream though.
My memories of that week at Power's Lake are complicated. No shit! I just scrolled through the pics to find the image above and I don't trust our smiles we wore. I viscerally remember the unbearable pain behind them. The remnants of which are just one of the samskaras I own.
I held on to those towels because in some way I felt my mom was still with us. They were an homage to her and her beloved family lake vacays. But eventually they were misplaced or retired and only three remained. Today I decided it was time to order new beach towels, and I'm telling you it was not an easy decision.
I miss my mom but a towel is not going to change that.
Mom's towel with one of the hats she wore to protect her bald head that week.
