Bathroom Statue

When I was growing up there were two bathroom statues on the back of the toilet tank for as far back as I can remember. Now, just so you know up front, this may cause you to think that I grew up in a home that was perhaps less than classy. Just to clarify, we had lots of class, it was just all low. Apparently. Of course I was not aware of classes when I was a kid and the statues were just a part of my every day life. They were about five inches tall and were of two little cupid-looking characters each sitting on the pot. One was called Billy Can and the other...well, you guessed it, was called Billy Can't. Billy Can was smiling and Billy Can't wasn't.

As I got older (married and with kids of my own) my mom would occasionally ask me and my sister what keepsakes we might want to have when she was gone. I could never stomach these conversations because I was uncomfortable having this discussion with my mom. I thought it was dumb to talk about her being 'gone' and it seemed greedy to me. I couldn't bring myself to say that I wanted anything specific, even though there were things that she had that had belonged to her mother that did appeal to me. Things like the glass butter dish or the hundred year old pitcher and vase that was in the family for, well, a hundred years. So, I would always say, "All I want is Billy Can and Billy Can't." It was a joke, sort of. They were memorable to me and I liked the fact that they were a bit irreverent. I'm like that. I enjoy shocking people. In fact, if I was growing up now I'd probably have purple and green hair and multiple piercings on my face (oh I'm glad I'm not growing up now).

So, this is my bathroom statue. It's subdued and sophisticated, very unlike me. It sits on the corner of my bathtub and will probably not be sentimental to my kids when I'm gone. There's so much about my mother that I now understand so clearly. If I could have some time to chat with her now, she'd know how well I understand those moments when she would ask my sister and me what, if anything, we might want to keep after she was gone. I think of this now on occasion and I try not to ask my girls. I know it's an uncomfortable conversation and I don't want to repeat history. But it's so hard not to.