Today someone slipped me the same sneerladen line, delivered with that particular mix of superiority and disdain that only a true Iknowbetter can muster: Youre just washing other peoples folks, arent you?
It wasnt the first time, and it probably wont be the last. In the past Id simply looked away, kept my mouth shut, because arguing felt as useful as a chocolate teapot. This round, though, I decided to speak up.
Yes, I clean. But those who chuckle at the word only see the surface. They miss the whole picture, because what I do goes far beyond a simple wash.
I ease the march of old age with the tenderness you use when handling a delicate china cup. I feed those who cant lift a spoon any more. I brush out tangled hair, trim nails, help with dressing. Sometimes I just sit beside someone in silence when their ache is not in the body but in the soul.
I listen to stories that no one else seems interested in, yet for these people those recollections are an entire universe, a hearth that keeps the final years warm.
I look after the very ones who once lifted others, raised children, built houses, tended wounds, taught lessons and now find themselves in need of a steady hand. In these daily, routine gestures theres no humiliation, only dignity. Not weakness, but grace.
This isnt dirty work. Its about humanity. About patience, about love, about the ability to remain human when everyone else is looking the other way. Because when a person is helpless, dependent on another for everything, thats when true kindness is put to the test.
And when someone tosses that remark with a sneer, I think: they simply havent stood in the shoes of those who need help. They equate strength with bank accounts, promotions, titles. But real strength is staying beside anothers fragility, not turning away, not scoffing, not cheapening their worth.
I couldnt keep a job where I had to pretend, flatter, lie for the sake of a bonus. Yet its often those very roles that earn applause, while our work gets dismissed as if were beneath everyone else.
I know thats not true. In our quiet theres honour. In our hands theres warmth that reminds a person they still matter. In our work theres a heart that never tires of compassion.
One day those who look down on us will find themselves unable to pull themselves up. Perhaps then theyll see: my job isnt about washing bodies. Its about restoring humanity, a touch that heals, a warmth that whispers, Youre still alive, youre important, you havent been forgotten.
So yes, I tend to other peoples loved ones. I do it with respect, softness and a pinch of pride. And maybe, just maybe, someday Ill be on the other side or they will. When that day comes, I hope therell be someone beside them who does the same with love, without contempt, without fear simply, as a decent human being.
