A few weeks ago I became completely exasperated with my iron. The bottom plate had spray starch residue that wouldn't budge when I tried to clean it off and I finally chucked it into the trash with the intent of going to Target that day to pick up a new one.
I was shocked when I checked the prices of irons at Target online beforehand. $89 for an iron? Really?? As we near retirement I've tried to be more fiscally responsible - to research before I buy and separate wants from needs, but the inexpensive irons were bereft of features with dubious life spans. Sigh. All right - I'd forego a new pair of shoes or outfit that would have cost the same $89 and buy a nicer iron.
I was backing out of the driveway when I dimly remembered a couple of cast off irons in the closet of the guest bedroom. They were probably broken or cheap - left overs from my children moving out after college, I told myself. Keep going and get over to Target so you can get back to attack that pile of Mike's shirts before the day gets away from you. That somber, humorless voice in my head that keeps me from blowing our budget on "wants" got the better of me and I stopped and went back in the house to check and see if there really were irons in the closet.
There were three. The first two were indeed broken, low cost models which made me marvel that they sat several years in the closet taking up real estate without having been thrown out. The third, though, was a nice one. Would it work? I filled the well with water, plugged it in and waited.
As I tipped the iron over to begin pressing a shirt there was the familiar and reassuring hiss of the steam as it met the fabric. Yes!
And at that moment, I realized that my morning had been filled with research and thought processes about a simple appliance when all the time there was an eminently suitable replacement just a few feet away in my own home. I was reminded of Dorothy, at the end of the Wizard of Oz, telling everyone around her that she realized that before she went to search for her heart's desire in the future she would first look in her own backyard.
I know that comparing my heart's desire to replacing an iron is a huge over simplification, but I think it's also a bit emblematic of something I needed to be reminded of.
I've found myself envying my friends sometimes for the nicer, bigger houses that they have or the newer models of cars. There have been many times when I have resented having to watch our pennies or regretted career choices that my husband and I have made that netted us less income than my friends. But suddenly, in this iron-inspired light bulb moment, I took stock of what I had and it nearly took my breath away.
A husband of 32 years that I am madly in love with and who loves me right back. Four wonderful, well adjusted and happy adult children who keep in constant touch with us and choose to live close by so we can all stay connected. A precious new granddaughter and a grandson on the way. Jobs that we have been able to hold onto throughout uncertain economic times. A house in a nice area that's paid for. Our health. Our faith. The list goes on.
So I spent the afternoon ironing shirts and I can honestly say I never felt more content and happy with my life.
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