Chapter 13 - Ione’s Mother
Celeste mattered even though she had been gone four years.
Not as hidden clue.
As parenting history.
Celeste believed children should contribute.
She gave Ione tiny chores at three.
Matching socks.
Putting napkins on table.
Feeding cat? We had no cat. Watering plants.
After Celeste died, I stopped some.
Because asking Ione to put away her mother’s laundry? There was none after initial grief. More generally, I stopped insisting.
My grief turned household expectations into something I could postpone.
Marjorie noticed.
She once said:
“Celeste would hate this.”
I answered:
“Don’t use my wife.”
Good line.
But I did not examine whether any underlying point was true.
By seven, Ione could do more.
So after crisis we rebuilt chores.
Not because Marjorie was right.
Because child development was real.
List:
Make bed approximately.
Put pajamas in hamper.
Clear own plate.
Ten minutes of room pickup.
Help fold towels if she wanted? No, as weekly chore maybe.
Water porch plants.
No scrubbing floors on knees.
No chore tied to food, sleep, affection, or family membership.
No adult demanding perfection.
Ione protested.
Good.
“Why chores if Grandma bad?”
“Because chores aren’t bad.”
“Then Grandma right?”
“No.”
Complexity.
She hated it.
Children prefer moral categories.
May you like
We practiced anyway.
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