Thanks to Mayhem and Moxie for a comment that inspired this post….
If you’ve been following my blog for the past few weeks, then you know Mom’s hospitalization has turned my world topsy-turvy. Life as I knew it has been replaced with this day-in, day-out routine that is simply exhausting.
If I were to say I’m handling it like a champ, that would be untrue and quite ridiculous. The best I can say is that I’m keeping it moving. I thank God every day for his mercy, and I seek out joy in small, but wondrous things. I’ve never been so in awe of a hot bubble bath or a scoop of butter pecan ice cream. After today, I needed them both.
A few days ago, my brother and I were told that when Mom comes home, she will be on a walker for a few months. My parents current set-up isn’t walker friendly.
By “current set-up,” I mean clutter. The clutter gene is deep in our DNA. My grandfather and great-aunt lived together for 10 years after their spouses passed away, and they were pack rats to the umpteenth power. My mother swore she would not be like them, but the DNA is winning. Mail covered the kitchen table, recycling overran the kitchen, and a blender from 1976 sat next to one that was nearly brand new.
“I’ve been fighting this battle for some time,” my brother told me. “I just can’t seem to win.”
I felt as I had entered The Twilight Zone. How could four people who lived together for so long be so different? I picked up a box and headed for the recycling bin outside. “Let’s get started.”
It took two hours and four people (my aunts helped) to beat down the clutter in the kitchen and office. My aunt P was so “broke down” (her term), she suggested our next cleaning session include cocktails. I think she’s onto something. But for now, ice cream will do.
When is the moment in time when a little bit of junk turns into an unruly mountain of chaos? I need figure it out so I don’t make the same mistake. Clutter cannot win!!!