Forty-Year-Old Curtains

I shouldn’t tell this on myself but anyone who knows me knows that on a list of a million things I might like to do, housekeeping is at the very bottom. I despise doing housework.

Today, I’ve done what needed done the worst because it was getting on my nerves. In the process, I looked out the kitchen window several times, admiring the dogwoods still in bloom and the new leaves on the trees in the woods behind the house. I thanked God several times throughout the day for the beautiful day He sent.

And I looked at the kitchen curtains. They are in desperate need of replacement. The hems are unraveling as are the rod pockets so instead of the curtains hanging on the rods straight, they are at an angle because I have draped them over the rods. There are rips and holes caused by cats attacking the curtains through the years. This is not something new -- the curtains have been this way for at least twenty years.

I had bought a red-checked tablecloth that Greg liked. We were in Kmart not long afterward and I saw some white curtains with a little red vine embroidered in the corners. I put the appropriate pieces in the cart and when Greg saw them he threw a fit, saying he didn’t want any damn vines in the house.

So, I put the curtains back and have never replaced what I bought from Greg’s cousin when we bought our double-wide trailer in 1987. She had had the curtains for a few years before she sold them to me.

Even though Greg throwing a fit hurt my feelings at the time, later I got peeved and my stubbornness took over. While I have looked for new curtains a few times since, none have suited me like the ones with the red vines. Once in a while Greg would say something about the curtains needing to be replaced. I either ignored him or said, “I know it.”

I miss times like that, even though they aren’t what could be called happy memories. Greg and I were together, sharing a life and all the ups and downs that occur. One more day with Greg, even if we spent half of it fussing with each other, would be welcome.

Tomorrow is my birthday. Will I gift myself new kitchen curtains? Probably not.

Ragged memories are better than no memories.