I am preparing for a surgical procedure that will have me in bed for a week or two, and in the past month I have been feverishly cleaning and organizing.
It was all overdue; the deep cleaning of bathroom, the washing of walls, the dusting and reorganizing of my laundry room, which had become a catch all and my personal nightmare.
It’s been a busy, busy month because of that, and because the kids’ activities require precise scheduling and rides, and because I brought in a big contract at work that promises to get bigger. Balancing school, work, home, church … it is all good, but the weeks pass in a blur of chores and dog walks, emails and driving. Always the driving, and of course the laundry.
This is a gift to myself; I have been working to complete cleaning chores so I can focus on my recovery. I have meals in the freezer, I have mobilized my village in advance so I will have support, and I am making sure my bedroom is tidy and restful.
The church rummage sale is coming up, and I have purged outgrown clothes and shoes, unused kitchen gadgets, and extraneous household objects. They are piled in totes and paper sacks, waiting for Wednesday, when I can drop them off. I am looking forward to this day, for the space it will create in my life, and for the coffee I will share with a friend that morning.
The season is changing; fall is always melancholy for me. But I take comfort in the fact that, for once, the thing I need to do for myself is also the thing I need to do for my family. I am grateful for that intersection, and for the reminder that in caring for myself I am, by extension, caring for them. I need to remember that and be mindful of it always.