Preparation for a Memory

I bring to the shower a fresh
bar of Ivory today,
along with my towel.
We always keep our
bathtowels separate. The
old bar has eroded
to a sliver. I always
enjoy something new.
.
I am grateful that she
remembered to release the
shower lever when she left
so I am not greeted
with a surprise dousing.
The water is nicely warmed.
.
I wash my belly first,
the center of my body and
under my breast where I have a
benign cyst (as my old doctor called it).
.
I wash my arms, saturating my hands in the soap,
under my arms. Then under my belly then
down my legs. My legs still feel tight and
strong. I am glad for that.
I leave my feet for washing with gel, later,
because I can't reach them in the tub.
.
I wash my neck, passing my hands around it,
then graduate to my mouth and my nose.
Around my ears, I take special pains because
I once found a whitehead behind one.
I wriggle my finger in each ear
hoping to catch a residue of wax.
Then I scrub my scalp. I use the soap
not having enough hair to bother with shampoo.