What?! No Washcloths?!

It was a brief moment creating an enduring memory.  We never seem to know when those moments will occur. 

The other day I ran out of washcloths!  For me, that was difficult.  Personally, I prefer one clean washcloth and two clean towels a day for my shower.  Having put off doing the laundry, dreading hauling it up and down four flights of stairs into that creepy basement, and not planning an “errand” trip, which could have included a stop at the laundromat, I thereby ran out of washcloths.  So, I picked up a clean hand towel and wet the corner of it to wash my face.

This small act brought back wonderful memories of my Godfather, whom I called “Pa”, but in reality one Chester Kosmalski.  He loved me as dearly as I did him.  Often after Sunday dinner at his house, he’d pick me up and set me on the counter next to the kitchen sink and grab a dishcloth.  Wetting the corner, he’d wash my face and smile at me!  

That was the memory!  Simple, short, and sweet.  A moment in time when I knew I was loved whether with a messy face or a clean face.  I thank God for my Godfather “Pa” who took me to church each Sunday and showed me the unconditional love he had for me. The same love that God has for me!

It reminds me of 2 Timothy 1:4-6 which I have taken the liberty to adapt, yet keeping the same context I believe.  The words in parenthesis, you will notice, are mine.

“Every time I say your name in prayer—which is practically all the time—I thank God for you, (my dear Godfather ‘Pa’) the God I worship with my whole life in the tradition of my ancestors. I miss you a lot, especially when I remember that last tearful good-bye, and I look forward to a joy-packed reunion.  (And that would be in heaven one day.)  That precious memory triggers another: your honest faith—and what a rich faith it is, handed down from your (family) and now to you!”