January 22, 2015
We all know the spring cleaning ritual all too well. Under the furniture, in the cushions, wash the walls and baseboards....tedious but necessary. Those who haven't been here aren't going to understand this, but I did a very hard thing tonight...I moved my furniture and vacuumed under it. When your kids are here, it's just another house chore. You mumble under your breath about them knowing where the trash can is, or knowing where their toys belong, and you go about your day. But when you lose one of your babies...every single thing becomes sacred...every bread crumb every Barbie shoe...when you lose a child you don't want to clean...you want everything to stay exactly as they left it, you don't want to lose the echo of them in the places they have been and the things they have touched. I moved one couch and found a toy gazelle she played with underneath. I started bawling. I moved another couch and found (caution its gross) a piece of a black banana peel...no doubt dropped without a thought while she was watching out the window or something...she loved bananas...I found bits of candy, tootsie roll wrappers from the treats we shared only days before...this is one of the hardest things I have done so far. I remembered the feeling I had when I picked up the house the day after it happened...so hollow and alone and guilty and scared to move anything from where she left it...I remember telling Jason that I didn't want to clean the couch cushions because her hidey trinkets were all that was left of the mess that our house was that morning...I think the first time for everything is the hardest, and then when it's over we get a personal victory dance after the guilt, and then we look around at whatever we just changed and realize that even though it's not where she left it, we still remember how and where she left it.....location is such a physical thing. I moved my couches tonight. And not a single memory disappeared with that banana peel.
We all know the spring cleaning ritual all too well. Under the furniture, in the cushions, wash the walls and baseboards....tedious but necessary. Those who haven't been here aren't going to understand this, but I did a very hard thing tonight...I moved my furniture and vacuumed under it. When your kids are here, it's just another house chore. You mumble under your breath about them knowing where the trash can is, or knowing where their toys belong, and you go about your day. But when you lose one of your babies...every single thing becomes sacred...every bread crumb every Barbie shoe...when you lose a child you don't want to clean...you want everything to stay exactly as they left it, you don't want to lose the echo of them in the places they have been and the things they have touched. I moved one couch and found a toy gazelle she played with underneath. I started bawling. I moved another couch and found (caution its gross) a piece of a black banana peel...no doubt dropped without a thought while she was watching out the window or something...she loved bananas...I found bits of candy, tootsie roll wrappers from the treats we shared only days before...this is one of the hardest things I have done so far. I remembered the feeling I had when I picked up the house the day after it happened...so hollow and alone and guilty and scared to move anything from where she left it...I remember telling Jason that I didn't want to clean the couch cushions because her hidey trinkets were all that was left of the mess that our house was that morning...I think the first time for everything is the hardest, and then when it's over we get a personal victory dance after the guilt, and then we look around at whatever we just changed and realize that even though it's not where she left it, we still remember how and where she left it.....location is such a physical thing. I moved my couches tonight. And not a single memory disappeared with that banana peel.
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