Cleaning

I started cleaning my boys' bedrooms out today. It works really well to do that when no one is home to demand that we keep that old broken toy. You know the one... the "favorite" that''s been collecting dust for a year, untouched until you pick it up to put it in the trash sack. Then it's, "My favorite! You can't throw that away!" Threw away a whole garbage full of broken "favorites," today. It always feels good to clean out the closets and cabinets. At least that's how I feel when I'm done. Never feel that way before I start. Cleaning is absolutely, my most dreaded chore. Give me laundry. Give me a lawn to mow. Give me anything except the cleaning! Yuck!

Today's cleaning was even harder than I expected. I discovered how much I am still grieving my older boys', when I walked into their room to clean out all the junk left behind when they moved out. I couldn't figure out why I was feeling so sad, and then I realized, how much I really miss them. I felt like a parent whose children have died and they just close the door to the room and leave it as is. That's what I'd done. Today was a sad day. A day of facing regrets about my parenting, a day of regrets about what my boys have turned out to be. I day of wishing I hadn't stayed married for so many years, wishing I had protected them from their father's anger, wishing I had given more or given less... whatever it would have taken to get a different result.

One piece of trash at a time. One dirty sock at a time. I pick up one thing and leave the room with it. Only in entering and exiting a lot, do I gain the strength to keep cleaning. It all turns out okay. I'm not done. yet, but my will power is tired. At least I got the majority of it straightened.
All of this writing just to say, "I miss my boys!" They may be jerks. They may treat me badly. They may be a pain in the ass, but they're my pain in the ass. I cared for them from birth until April. Now they are gone. Now they stay away.

I miss them!