I grew up thinking my mom’s house was the model for clean. I recall her doing house chores when I was a rug-rat. I remember my parents telling me to go clean my room and make my bed. I recollect my dad’s concern that the inside of the dish be as clean as the outside.
Yeah. We were clean-livin’ people.
I am the clean-freak in my family now. Not that we live all that clean, really, but I am sure all those living in this house would agree that I am the main driving force for cleanliness and neatness. And I think of my mom as my role model. She kept a clean home, and now I strive for that too.
Yeah. We are clean-livin’ people.
But I did dishes with a 4-month-old in one arm the other night. Now, that’s a trick! But our house is bombed out in child-care since we took in foster kids. And… well… it needed done, and this was the only way to do it.
I think I wasn’t as thorough as usual.
And seeing how I am as old now as my grandparents were when I was born, I look back to my mom in my heart and my mind for comfort and guidance, and I see a kid with a baby washing dishes with one hand and I think: She wasn’t nearly as clean as I thought she was!
I miss my mom tonight, may she rest in peace. But I just put that little angel down to sleep for the second time tonight, and I find myself giving to her what my mom gave to me.
… in a home cleaned with one hand.