Since we got rid of most of our dishes over a year ago I do most of my dishes by hand. It's a more pleasant experience. The warm water. The suds. Instant gratification.
And the tiny bubbles.
I don't remember seeing these before. I've done dishes by hand many times in the past. I think it might be the bottle. Nearly every time I pick up or set down the bottle of dish soap, tiny bubbles shoot out of it and float around the sink. About the size of my fingertip. And it makes me happy.
Bubbles are one of life's miracles, if you ask me. They're just magical, no matter how old I get. Watching them float. Wondering if they will survive the landing. Trying to catch them without popping them. They are a wonder.
They take me back to a simpler time with my children. Every time I see them I remember the summers spent blowing bubbles so my children could chase them. I remember helping my children learn to blow them. I remember when the magic of bubbles was enough to solve most unhappy days. Long before dating woes, driving stress, and worries about grades and graduation and college. Just me, the kids, bubbles, and sunshine.
They also take me further back in time. Every time I see them I hear the song "Tiny Bubbles" in my head. I remember the first time I heard that song. It wasn't Don Ho. It wasn't on a ukelele'. It was an old man on a guitar. With his partner on a banjo. I went camping with my grandma to an annual gathering called The Blackhawk. As the summer evening was winding down, people were socializing and relaxing. People were playing music together, rocking in lawn chairs by their trailers, singing. And these two old men created heaven. A moment that still brings me peace when I think about it. Just a still, quiet summer evening filled with the beautiful harmony of two old friends.
A time when I had no worries. There was nothing left for the day except to enjoy the company of those around us until it was time to go to bed. I was with my grandma, my angel on earth. And with people who had all the time in the world just to be.
Washing my dish makes me happy. It brings me joy in a most simple way. (And just in case it is the bottle -- it's Dawn and it works best when the bottle is mostly empty. I want you to find happiness washing your dish, too.)