Did you grow up with fancy towels?

A funny moment with my hospice client reminded me of one of my earliest Buds’ memories.

Buds went home with me the first time after we’d only known each other two weeks. My gosh, it stuns me to write that. Two weeks!

That first visit it didn’t occur to me to mention to him that there were fancy towels and regular towels in each of our bathrooms. Everyone I knew had fancy towels that were just hanging there, like a lovely picture in the bathroom. I’d even seen them have a thin layer of dust across the top crease since they didn’t ever get washed.

The regular towels for drying off after bathing were under the sink. Everyone knew that.

My dad came out of the bathroom after Buds showered shaking his head.

“He used the fancy towels.” Dad lamented.

I turned to Buds, surprised.

He looked at me with a blank stare.

“I didn’t know, ” he sputtered.

If he’d been honest, he probably had been wondering why the heck we used towels that were stiff as boards (Never washed, remember.) and scratchy with the lace embellishments to boot.

It probably felt like drying off with sandpaper.

I’m grateful Buds survived that first visit. If fancy towels would have been enough to drive him off, I would have regretted it forever.