Monday, April 21, 2008

• Cleaning for the soul

  I was doing a bit of some cleaning at my dad’s place the other week.  This time it was their old bedroom.  In today’s big houses, people would dismiss their bedroom as a small guest room or perhaps a home office.  There’s just room for two small beds, some book cases, a dresser, a couple of chairs and 1 closet.  With all that, there was just enough space to walk in and get to where you want.  My dad doesn’t sleep in this bedroom anymore.  He actually moved out at my mom’s insistence when the medical equipment in their started to keep him awake.  That seems like such a long time now.  Although my sister has done some cleaning, it’s still fairly intact with the exception of a lot of books, magazines and stuff on top of the beds.  Most of the old furniture is still there.  It’s nothing fancy and most of them are quite old. 

  The 2 piggy banks on top of the dresser caught my eye.  It’s an old man and an old woman sitting on their rocking chairs.  There’s an inscription there “Our Retirement Fund”.  I think she got these when she started to work.  She was probably in her 50’s at that time.  She would deposit loonies ($1) and twonies ($2).  There are layers of tape covering the hole at the bottom of the 2 piggy banks.  Over time, there have been many withdrawals – mostly to pay for bills.      

  A lot of my mom’s Chinese books are still there.  Some are still by her bedside table.  The chairs are still positioned the same way.   I still remember how she would stretch out there after a long day and read.  It was one of her simple pleasures.  Just outside the bedroom window was our neighbor’s birdfeeder.  She loved watching the jays, sparrows, robins and squirrels feeding on it.  The plants by the window are at my place now.  My dad didn’t really know how to take care of them.

  I try to focus on the task but there are so many things that trigger my memories.  I try to be careful with my dad’s papers.  I notice a large envelope from his lawyer.  It’s his will.  I hold the envelope for a while and placed it back down.  He’s told me what he wants already so there isn’t really anything in there that I don’t know about.   But I still didn’t want to open it.  After a while, I call it quits.  There’s a saying that cleaning can be cathartic.  I think there’s some truth in that.    

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