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Teresa Fannin
05/12/202505/12/2025

Cleaning Out

Back when the girls were young and in elementary school I would do what my boss euphemistically called a ‘work from home’ day. But there weren’t work from home days. Oh there were those who did,  the Avon or Amway representatives but most either got in a car or on a bus or train and trundled to the office.  We dressed in suits and carried briefcases.  I liked the structure of it all, but there were times when the structure was hard to find and it was even hard to feel that it was all worth it.

I called it work from home, but it wasn’t. I mean I did work, but not  work stuff. For me it was a time apply structure and to find order in the ups and downs of my life. Not control. Attemptint to gain ontrol of life is a waste of time. LOL, I always said the last time I had control of my children was when they were in the womb. And even then they fought back. Good lord, the nausea!

I like structure and order around me, because with order can come accomplishment. We don’t talk enough about accomplishment. I’m not speaking of the big stuff, like graduations, promotions, that stuff. I’m talking about the day to day accomplishments of getting through life, getting it done. The daily accomplishment of maintaining a confortable house, vacuuming, dusting, moping, changing linens and the accomplishment, if even for a brief moment, of a clean house . The regular accomplishment of completing an assignment for school, or turning in a report at work.

Usually, on those ‘work from home’ days I cleaned out kitchen drawers, vacuuming the crumbs, rearranging cutlery. My favorite was the junk drawer, a perennial need…oh so many possibilities. But any unattended or even a well used cabinet, box, closet, drawer or cubby was fair game any given day.  With the accomplishment of order came the responsibility of judging what was worthy of a donation to St. Vincent dePaul or the local dump.

I’ve done a lot of brining order to my life and my home over the years. And I do revel in the accomlishment. But I have refrained from the wholesale reordering of Tom’s closet, the accomplishment seemed negligible.  And  truthfully, I did not know if I was up for the responsibility of judging what was worthy of donation.

Yesterday, Mother’s Day, was a long rainy afternoon. And a perfect time to travel through  this part of Tom’s life.  I pulled out every shoe, shirt, suit, odd coat, pant, polo and tee. And I carefully held and  folded each and every one. Funny how there are memories that came roaring in, unannounced, of jokes, stories, and simply moments connected these items.

I admit to keeping some  that resonated strongly with me.  The tie with the monetary symbols of all western countries Tom wore when ever there was a budget meeting at work. And his Mickey Mouse tie reserved  for contract negotiations with insurance companies!  Or the money belt he bought for our travels simply because he thought it was cool to hide,  in a belt with an inside zippered compartment, dollars you had to first fold into long thin packets which meant to get your cash you had to remove your belt. Go figure!  A tee shirt I liked. The polos he wore emblasoned with the logos of the girl’s alma maters.  [Maybe I’ll have those made into pillows for the grands.]   There wasn’t much else to keep, because even without them I have the memories that can come flooding back unbeckoned but wanted, reminding me of a wonderful, loving time together.

There is a shelter in town for indigent men and a friend at church has chosen to be their advocate. Last Christmas I gave two huge plastic bags full of Tom’s tees, briefs and socks.  This summer I’m giving his closet. Pocket squares from Bermuda, shoes from Clarks and Cole Haan, pants from Brooks Bros and LLBean, shirts from Van Heusen, suits from Jos. A Banks. Good stuff.  Tom was a snappy dresser, and this is what he would have wanted.

I didn’t need the extra closet space, but I welcome it. I am comfortable with the new structure, I like the order but mostly I love the accomplishment of providing something worthy to those in need.

What  I cleaned out were clothes, material things. Athough, I did find $3.69 cents in his suits which made me laugh.  What I have are memories of a life well lived. I am grateful. .

 

 

Musings from a reader first, lover of dark chocolate and Irish whiskey, tennis player, writer of mysteries, science fiction, and historical non-fiction.

Recent Posts

  • Cleaning Out
  • First and Normal
  • The Boy…
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  • THE GETAWAY POSITION

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