A few of my friends think of me as a cleaning fanatic. What I am is an average house keeper who loves to clean. I especially look forward to holiday cleaning. This is when I clean everything, even the cans in the food cupboard.
Some of you may think of that as extreme. Maybe it is, but not to me. I recall my mother telling my brother and me “Santa doesn’t come to dirty houses.” Then we proceeded to clean and while we (mostly mom) cleaned there would be stories about the house being built and who gave her this candy dish or when and where she bought a shelf. This is where my love of caring for my things and cherishing the memories they bring was born.
Here is an example of two hours of what many may call a chore and what I believe is just love remembered: While washing the walls in my hall I reminisced how many hands and how much love went into putting this tiny condo together. There was my uncle George who tore down the dark ugly paneled walls and put in the doors and painted. John my step-father who put in the ceramic tile in the kitchen and my mother’s handy finish work on the built in book shelf. Yet the most precious item is a book case my dad built for me thirty-seven years ago for school. Polishing that is a pure act of love. I recall how very proud he was of that rose stained bookcase (dad wasn’t very handy). On that bookcase there are Emit Kelly clowns that are just a small sample of many clowns I once owned. I kept these because they remind me of a significant time of growth. Then there’s the Santa snow globe that was once my aunt Lucy’s and now mine. I leave it out all year to remind me of Aunt Lucy and to have the spirit of Christmas all year round. On the book case is a ceramic rabbit that was a gift from a friend after receiving my yellow belt. While cleaning the ceramic teddy bear from Germany the wonderful memories of that trip flood my mind.
A visit to the past an appreciation of the present and a knowing that no matter what happens in the future I’ve led a blessed life… So this home, houses my life. What a privilege not a chore to keep it as it’s kept me.
No Chore, Just Love