For the first time in many years, I cleaned my entire house.
I had to do it myself because I fired our cleaning lady last week. To my suprise, I had an epiphany while cleaning.
While dusting, I noticed the beauty and craftsmanship of my inherited furniture. One chair has intricate raptor-like claw feet. The china cabinet has a seashell centerpiece, the dressers are fine, aged wood with varying grains, stans and curves. I saw the cat scratches, the hairline cracks and the signs from years of vacuums bumping into the bottom edges.
I opened the windows to air out the house and thought, “These are really nice windows we put in last year.”
When I vacuumed and mopped the floors, I said to myself, “We did a great job with this laminate. It looks just like an aged plank floor in a log cabin.”
I dusted the knick knacks, the paintings and the lamps. Each one comes with its own story, uniqueness and character.
Cleaning it myself made me remember how much I love our stuff. It made me think how my wife and I painstakingly created a place we loved. It took us 3 decades to get here.
It’s going to take a long time to create my next home.
I want to run away.
Everyday I think, “I need to get rid of everything. I need to sell the house. I need to move somewhere smaller and cheaper.”
I’ve got rooms that sit empty 95% of the time. I’ve got 4 dressers when all I use is 2 drawers and half a closet for my clothes.
I’ve got 2 bathrooms, dozens of sheets, 2 beds, 50 towels and two closets packed with Ellen’s old clothes.
I have a pool I’d like to fill in with rocks. My yard is quickly being overtaken by native plants, weeds and grass.
I know I’ll be leaving this house someday.
Home used to be wherever Ellen and I were together.
Now that she’s gone, this is my home. She filled my life with love and she left me with something wonderful.
It’s not just stuff. It’s us. It’s memories. It’s love and stories. It’s laughter and tears.
I can’t run away from my grief. It’s going to follow me wherever I go.
So for a few hours after I cleaned the house, I thought, “Maybe I’ll just stay here for awhile.”