Yesterday evening, I spent a few hours helping a scooter-bound woman clean her apartment–which in all honesty means, I cleared a path so her scooter could go three feet further into the room. As such, today I’m still exhausted from moving so much junk and paper most of which she would not allow me to throw away. “When are you coming back?” She asked; hopeful I would return. “How about Monday–but on one condition…you have to be willing to let go of some of this stuff–otherwise, there is no point,” I explained. Looking at me with sincere eyes, she said, “I don’t want to live like this any longer.” “Well then I’ll see you on Monday” I replied and then left short-time later, wondering what I was thinking getting myself into this situation.
Later when I arrived at my own cluttered home with the kitchen sink filled with dirty dishes, I looked around and let out a heavy sigh. “What’s wrong Sweetie?” My husband asked. Shaking my head, I replied “Nothing. As messy and infuriating as these dumb dishes here in the sink make me, I have no real complaints where this house is concerned. “”Ah, that woman’s house was bad eh?” “So flipping dusty. I told her she had three years of dust on everything and she replied, ‘Can’t be, I’ve only been here eight months…’ I’m telling you it took everything in my power not to turn around and walk out.” “Well, maybe you should…” He offered. “I’ll give her one more help on Monday. If she’s unwilling to part with clothes she’ll no longer wear or old newspapers, etc. then I won’t go back.”
The boy overhearing part of our conversation butted in and said, “Mom there’s a lesson to be learned here…” Shooting tired daggers at him, I replied,”And what pray tell is that bay?” “Dirty dishes in your sink helps you feel loved,” He said with a smirk. “Bay, hardly” I replied but couldn’t help but laugh at his skewered view. “See mom, you’re feeling better already,” He said before adding “Oh and by the way, we’re out of popcorn. Can you get some tonight?”