Close of Day -- Original Oil Painting by Steve Henderson of www.stevehendersonfineart.com.
I don't deal with the passage of time well. It pains me to realize that my children will continually grow older -- as well I -- and that someday the socks won't be all over the floor, the towels stuffed into the bathtub (if I'm lucky), the butter left melting on the counter, and assorted bottles and jars stuffed back into the refrigerator sans their lids. I suppose I should be grateful that they were put back in the refrigerator at all.
At one time, my house was much tidier, but at the expense of my time and my relationship with the kids. One day I realized that I could spend a significant portion of my day nagging and instigating constant cleaning up, or I could calm down a bit and accept a lived-in look -- that stopped significantly short of cockroaches -- and use the minutes that I would have spent polishing the refrigerator grill with something creative and fun.
I've been happier ever since, although at times I still wonder what the bathroom floor looks like.
Years ago, I visited an older friend who had been widowed for several years, and what struck me most about her home was the appalling neatness of every room. Books and magazines were artfully arranged and stayed that way. Sofa cushions were actually on the sofa. The bathroom floor was a flowered blue vinyl; coordinating towels hung on their racks.
Don't get me wrong -- her place was lovely, as beautiful as anything in a magazine. It was also empty and devoid of noisy messy people, and at the time I went back to my noisy, messy home grateful for the inhabitants who made it that way.
Some day, and not too far in the future, the noisy messy people will be gone, off to their own homes which, if my oldest daughter is any example, they will keep better picked up than they did their teenage rooms (that she married a tidy man no doubt has a part in this). At that time, if there is a towel on the bathroom floor, it will be because I or my husband dropped it there, and either one of us is fully capable of picking it up.
Until then, I continue to enjoy my noisy messy people, grateful for the time we share together everyday, determinedly teaching them what a clean dish and a folded shirt look like, while they in their turn teach me what jumping on the trampoline feels like -- and it's ever so much more fun than pairing socks!
Enjoy life -- purchase original art -- http://www.stevehendersonfineart.com/