Cleaned Out

Dearest Rachel –

Here’s something you probably didn’t ever get to see once we moved into this house some twenty-five years ago:

That’s it. That’s the corner of the laundry room where all the dirty clothes would be piled up awaiting processing. We (and by ‘we,’ I admit it almost always meant ‘you,’ with the exception of my dress shirts) would always wait until we had a large load – something big enough to completely fill the washing machine – and then some, since you kept the whites separate from darks, delicates separate from regular fabrics, and of course, a whole separate pile for purples. As a result, you never had full piles of everything all at once to wash all at once.

So, this corner has never been this clean. Everything I’m not currently wearing is either hung up or in the washing machine getting cleaned up to be hung up.

It’s crazy, I know. As thoroughly aware as I am of the overwhelming dark cloud that’s covered this house all these months, it’s nice to take a moment and appreciate a silver lining, as it seems like everything has finally found a place and been put into it. We’re finally getting to the point where we can call this place organized.

At last, we’re…

Never mind.

We still have a long way to go after all, it seems.

Welp, there’s still that much more to get down. Wish us luck, honey.

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I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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