I'm Still Not Cleaning Up the Kitchen

I woke up this morning to the same old thing--a house that looks like four teenagers live in it.  I brought the laundry down, let the dogs out, lit the candle, and stared at the kitchen strewn with used glasses, utensils, empty cans.  I wandered into the den where I saw the usual--blankets left on the floor, throw pillows all over the place, more empty glasses and cans.  I headed to the basement to start the laundry and again saw the typical morning after debris--dirty clothes, empty slurpee cups (that I specifically had reminded them to throw away) and bits of trash and used paper.  Surprisingly I wasn't angry--just fed up and tired.  "Why," I wondered, "am I the one that always does it?"  (I ignored the fact that it might be because I am always the first up--I rather enjoyed wallowing for a moment.) I started the first of what will be 3 or 4 loads of laundry and headed back upstairs to the kitchen.  I began to collect empty cans to take out to recycle and I suddenly stopped.  I wasn't going to do it today.  I wasn't going to be angry about it, but I wasn't going to do it either.  Every morning I go downstairs and clean up the aftermath of the night before; I unload the dishwasher and reload it with all the dirty dishes I find everywhere--if they would just put them in the sink!  Now to be fair, the dishwasher didn't need to be unloaded because I hadn't cooked dinner last night (keep in mind I lose mother of the year very early on the 1st of January every single year, so by November 29th not making dinner isn't going to ruin anything)--it was a get what you want when you want kind of night--but couldn't they have put the dishes from their get what you want when you want forages through the refrigerator into the dirty dishwasher?   Apparently not.  I promised myself not to be angry and instead went into the living room to write letters and to begin my sermon.

As I sat down at my grandmother's desk, I thought about Gangan and the life she lived.  I thought about how much I loved and missed her and I wondered about the many days she sat at this very same desk.  Did she sit here and write when she was happy, sad, tired, fed up?  I began writing letters that I have put off for far too long--a note to my cousin Hank who just lost his father and very late birthday cards to my Kanto niece and nephew.  As I wrote these notes and checks to put into the cards I wondered if Gangan had sat at this very same desk writing her cards and checks to me?  I wondered if she had written condolence letters at this same desk thinking about and desperately wanting to take away the pain and grief just as I did? I imagine she did; Gangan out lived most of her friends.  Friendships and family were very important to her--she had life long friends with whom she stayed in touch all the days of their lives, life long friends that she desperately and completely loved.  It's not easy to do and sometimes I imagine that she felt frustrated that she didn't get the same response from people, and yet she kept on because relationships, connections were important.   As I sat writing at her desk I gave thanks that she passed this trait onto me.  I gave thanks that despite the times she felt tired and fed up she continued to stay connected and to reach out to others and I said a silent prayer that I would be able to as well.

This morning Gangan's desk reminded me of the importance of staying connected even when it's easier not to, even when life is so busy and everyone would understand why you can't.  Gangan's desk reminded me that I am part of a history, that I am connected to a past and that I am a connection to the future.  As I thought about Gangan and how she lived her life I was reminded that how I live my life matters not only today but tomorrow and for future generations--we are all connected. Most importantly I realized that it has to start today--how I treat and connect with people today connects me to how others may treat and connect with people in the future.  And I was reminded that being tired and fed up isn't an excuse...

Thank you Gangan for continuing to teach me the importance of relationship and connection.  I'm still not cleaning up the kitchen...