I read something this week about messy houses and dirty floors equating to a life well lived. It may signify love, laughter and activity. Or it may mean you’re busy with other things. It’s not a sign of failure. It’s human!
I’m compulsively neat. If you saw my bedroom in high school, you’d never believe it yet today, everything has its place. Things get put away. Rooms get tidied up. And there’s no such thing as chaos. I’m usually surrounded by calm, quiet, and solitude with my fur-mate.
Usually.
But just shy of six months ago, a two-week stay turned into five months when our nuclear family of three almost lost my father to sepsis. My parents temporarily moved in with me anticipating a smooth recovery from two laminectomies. Straightforward procedure with no complications and a positive result – until the infection slowly crept in without our even knowing. They weren’t sure my father would pull through, and neither was I despite the deepest of faith, and thank God and his healthcare team – he did.
When I think back now upon those first few months, it was harrowing in so many ways. Not only was my father sick, but his cherished sister was hospitalized and passed as well as his beloved brother who thankfully recovered. Neighbors and friends fell ill – hospitalizations, rehabs, and funeral services. 2000 job cuts were announced at the company I work for, my team at high risk. Plumbing issues. Car problems. Urgent Care runs and doctors’ appointments. Home health care visits and day to day errands. Every day life for those with families – and sometimes, it all happens at once.
The first few days of my parents stay were challenging – not because of them, but the reality of their daily lives becoming part of mine. I was forced to let go, and let them be. Wanting them to feel at home, I needed to release my sense of control and allow my mother to take over my home. That was the key to blissful cohabitation.
Who would complain? My mother hates to sit still. She loves doing laundry, cleaning, and organizing. I was introduced to towels I didn’t even know I had. Laundry was 24/7 – even clean clothes. Utensils moved because they didn’t belong where I had them and the accumulation of small jugs was apparent. Market Basket bags were wrapped and stored and my dining room table turned into – chaos! Mail, pill cases, loose change, paperwork, word searches, pencils, pens, tissue, magazines – and more. Chaos!
It takes 21 days to start or break a habit and 100 to make it automatic. My parents were with us 152.5 days. We established a new routine, a new life.
Tonight, they’re home. We moved them back this evening. The chaos I grew to appreciate. The mess I grew to chuckle at. The 24 hour chit chat – I kid you not – I expected. My parents enhanced my insomnia. “Are you ok? Do you need anything?” I’ve turned into the parent.
Tonight, I can sleep. But will I?
My home is neat again. All rooms are void of ‘stuff.’ Yet I am missing it all. I’m sad. I see emptiness where I once saw contentment.
My darling dog is despondent – and if you knew her, you’d understand. She thrived when surrounded by all of us every day and tonight – it’s quite possible that I’ve become the spare human!
My parents stay taught me how to let go – and live. The mess, the unpredictability, the chaos – how I thank them!
Tonight as I drove home from their house, tears filled my eyes for the first time in months. I was so focused on caretaking and going through the motions of life, my emotions were numbed. I cried for the losses we experienced, the life we reclaimed, and the reality I was going home to. The tears haven’t stopped flowing.
I’d gladly take back the mess because it was filled with love, laughter, and joy. Each day included robust conversations, loud chatter, and constant engagement – most at inopportune times – but were they?! Every minute is precious.
Embrace the chaos – it is filled with everything life should be!
