I helped you clean your room
Not because it was a toxic death trap
But because I knew we might find something,
Something you’d been looking for.
And we would laugh at the candy wrappers, the moldy apple,
The discarded clothing, the random bits of paper with
Life scribbled on them, anguished life, raw life, devotion, angst
And dreams, scribbled on bits of paper.
I helped you clean your room
Because the hours spent with you were precious.
We talked and small traces of order would appear,
small traces of calm and pleasure, even though we knew
they were temporary. Your room, your life was meant
to be lived in, sometimes messy, sometimes organized but
always uniquely your room, your life. And I was
always happy when you let me sit there with you. Always.
I helped you clean your room
And it was with the same strategy used in cleaning
My own room with its messes and secrets and disorganization.
My room never stayed clean either, but I always enjoyed making
It different. I could always make a difference, move the furniture, clear the floor,
And feel fresh and renewed. A messy room was just an opportunity, not an indictment.
I perhaps never told you these things, but I want you to know why
I helped you clean your room.
(A reflection on possible messages of shame, unwittingly communicated, deeply regretted)
I Just Have to Say... 
That was beautiful!
Thank you!
My pleasure! It makes me think of my son’s. It’s funny bc we cleaned his room today. It’s a struggle.
It is. But I enjoyed it so much more when I started viewing it as “together time”.
Now did your husband help bc mine has an unbelievable talent to yell over from the sofa when 94% of the work is done and ask if I need any help. Have you seen any of my past posts with him setting the table? It’s a doozie!
I need to check out your posts – your husband sounds very familiar… Are we married to the same guy?
So full disclosure, My last response to you was based on bc I thought you had commented on my post for hating cooking and how u love to cook, not the room. Sorry, this is after a few cabernets.
Lol. No, I hate to cook too. Maybe we are twins.
Did we just become best friends?
I think maybe so.
Ha! Love it!!
Probably…perhaps twins separated at birth though unlike the movie Twins, neither of us ended up with the perfect one???
AND YOU ARE SOOO RIGHT!!! CAPS INTENDED
I’ve helped you clean “your room” too, and the same goes…