One of the big things that bothered her was the toothpaste spatters that he would thoughtlessly leave each day marring the surface of the mirror. She railed on her husband for the mess he was making. Such a little thing, and yet the argument over it waged on leaving a torn up trail of hurt and angry feelings behind.
Then one day, he died. She was alone. She found that she missed her companion of 62 years far more than she ever thought she would. And she found that there were still toothpaste spatters on the mirror. Spatters that appeared daily, long after his funeral was over.
Recognition. Regret. Remorse.
Somedays I find myself frustrated and angry living in a house with other inconsiderate people. People who never load the dishwasher, even though they have been taught how. People who break the hinges off the doors because they are too lazy to hang coats and arrange backpacks in the closet and instead just force it shut. People who leave shoes laying about the house.
I become frustrated and angry. Looking around at the mess left behind, I long for the day they move on, and then I look closer at those dishes and see that some of them are sitting at my table spot.
And the shoes?
A quick jant about the house with a camera shows that nearly all the shoes----
belong to me.
Huh. That stinks. I'm at fault too.
Gotta process that for awhile.
Pause for thought..................
Perhaps I will miss them. I might even miss their mess. Maybe.
But while they are here, I might as well teach them about fixing door hinges.
Yup.
ReplyDelete