Wednesday, August 8, 2012

An Overdue Apology

Dear House:

I've been trying to rearrange furniture and clean you a little bit these last couple of days. More than usual, that is. All my work seems to have done is remind me how we got off to a bad start and time never stood still long enough for us to work out our differences.

I try to practice what I read and not express my distaste because it will just bring more back to me. I try and express gratitude for a door to open when I come home; a roof over my head to keep out the weather; walls all around me to shelter me from damaging winds; stairs to climb to get up out of the worldly muck that tries to bury me on a day to day basis and a floor with footings and a foundation to support me when the ground all around seems to be quicksand. I try. At the same time, I could also {way too easily} rattle off everything that is wrong with you. And the negative always wins out.

I'm sorry I hate you so much and I'm really sorry I've let you get so rundown and dirty. But, you see, my mom would always come and spend a week once a year and help me clean. We'd talk and laugh and solve our problems. We had fun and cleaned.

But she's gone and she left without teaching me how she made keeping a house clean fun and enjoyable. So now I'm sort of missing her. I know you're wishing these tears would wash your windows and your windows' sills or get the dust off your walls and floors and carpets but they won't.

So, for now, my small efforts and apologies will have to tide you over. Maybe another year.



1 comment:

  1. You'll never know the number of times mother cried on my shoulder because she was so exhausted from cleaning the house. She was a workaholic but never let go. I never was allowed to have a messy room. She wouldn't hear of it. She laid down very tired at times just to rest for a minute. Love you both.