The Odd Brown Sock

Hurriedly, she pulled a load of clothes from the dryer, counting the minutes and tasks she still had to complete.  In only a short time, the house would once again be filled with noise as the children returned from school, her husband returned from work and the evening's tasks of feeding, schooling, washing and playing resumed.

Sorting the newly-cleaned clothes into piles belonging to each family member, she smiled as she thought of each of them; John, her husband of ten years, her three daughters and two sons.  Deftly folding clothes while thinking of her family, she scowled as she neared the end of the pile and once again found an odd sock.  Brown wool, showing a few months of wear, but plenty of life left in it yet.

'Why are there so few certainties in life, except odd socks coming out of the dryer?'

She fought back the tears that welled up behind her eyes.  Yet her determination was not enough and the tears spilled down her cheeks.  Like a burst dam, she felt the tears flow, beyond her control, bringing both relief and devastation in confusing waves.

'Why am I crying over an odd sock?  Come on, pull yourself together!'  she ordered herself.

Failing to heed her instruction, the tears continued to fall and she thought again of her family.  She did love them all so much but this life was not the one she imagined when she married John.

She thought of the early years when she and John had first met, their first year or two of marriage.  She thought sadly of the dreams they had created together; dreams that hadn't been mentioned for many years. She thought of her own personal hopes and dreams; now buried far beneath the daily cares of a busy wife and mother.

'How few things in my life have turned out as I expected.'