The Sock

Evan - Stow, Ohio
Entered on February 3, 2009
Age Group: 18 - 30

Everything was perfect. The eight loads of laundry that I hauled down and up four flights of stairs were folded and put away in my closet, the scent of dryer sheet filled the room and even trumped the stench of my sweaty New Balances, and I was finally ready, after a week of getting dressed in all dirty clothes, to pick out a clean outfit. I always choose to wear my favorite clothes that first day. Starting with the boxers, of course, then the shorts, the undershirt, the polo, and finally the socks. I allow my socks to scatter amongst the drawer in which they reside instead of pairing them together, so I reached in and grabbed the first white and red ankle-high Nike sock. After it was comfortably fitted to my left foot, I reached in for the match. It was not until the whole drawer was scattered on my floor that I realized that it had happened again. I believe that the washing machine always steals one sock.

It was my favorite sock, and it was the only thing keeping the sock on my left foot living. The fun times that the three of us shared, the defeats, the accomplishments, and the comfort that those two socks gave to me are now just a memory. Happiness is only part of a cycle, and it is impossible to live without the angry and sad stages.

After my sister’s engagement, my Mom became an active participant in the wedding. She ordered flowers, drove to dress-fittings, scheduled spa appointments to relax my sister, and everything else, to make the day perfect. She was so proud of my sister and possibly more emotional than her throughout the wedding planning, but she was thoroughly happy with life. She was wearing her favorite socks, and then the inevitable happened. She suffered a sudden heart attack and was stuck in the hospital. Life stole her happiness, just as the washing machine stole mine.

My Mom decided against the doctors orders and came to the wedding in a wheel chair. Tears of joy and the look of happiness in my Mom’s face taught me that I needed to open my eyes. Happiness is never constant, but next time the washing machine of my life takes my favorite sock, I will think about my Mother, and I will fight through the cycle to find happiness. Sandals are pretty comfortable anyways.