Cleaning the Sink

One day when I was younger, I did the dishes totally on my own -- with no prodding from anyone.  Yay, me!  I was pretty happy with myself for being so "unselfish" and "thoughtful" so I told my mom what I had accomplished (I wasn't very interested in humility at that age).  Her response: "Did you clean the sink afterward?"  Hmmmm..... not exactly the pat on the back I had been looking for.  And of course, I don't think I had done that part.  Rats.  Back I went to clean the sink.  Ever since that day, whenever I get almost done washing the dishes I think of my mom.  Her question echoes in my ears until I actually do clean the sink.  Only then do I consider myself done with the dishes.  

As I was washing dishes today, the same thing happened.  Only this time, there was a second part to it.  I realized today that my mom's question was a prompting from her to finish whatever I start.  It was a reminder that any job half done is not a job well done.  And then I started thinking about the areas in my life where a job well done is the only acceptable kind of job there is.  You know, some things you can do and as long as they're mostly done and you gave it your best effort it's no big deal -- even if they're not really "well" done.  These are things like making the bed (who's going to see it besides me, anyway?), folding my laundry (I can iron whatever is beyond the wrinkle limit right before wearing it), and parallel parking (if I'm pretty close to the curb and my car is reasonably straight, I'm good).

Some things, though, just have to be well done.  Take, for instance, all the things I have to do about Kathi's IH issues -- doctor appointments to make and follow-up on, records to keep, research to.... well.... research.  I can get a specialist to make a referral to another medical professional but if I don't follow up on getting the authorization from the insurance company so Kathi can actually get the appointment, what good was the referral?  I can get Kathi to the ER to be seen when she needs it, but if I don't give them the history on her IH and information on her current symptoms, they can't do their job well enough to give her the help she needs. I can rant and worry all I want that there is no cure or adequate treatment for my daughter's rare disease, but if I don't do my part to help raise awareness and educate people and talk to the doctors on my daughter's behalf, then the chances of actually finding that cure or adequate treatment are that much slimmer.  In all these things, I have to be diligent and follow through to the end of the job.  

It's not enough to just do the dishes; I need to clean the sink.  

So as much as I hated to hear my mom's question at the time that she asked it, I'm grateful to her for it now.  It's funny what we remember from our childhoods; what sticks and can be applied to our adult lives.  Thanks, Mom, for knowing what I needed to hear and having the wisdom to say it.

~ Pia