Cleaning Up

Well, durn, I hike over half of creation this past week without a twinge from my feet or any other part of my body. I wake up yesterday with a left ankle so sore I can barely touch it after a really good night’s sleep. Doesn’t seem fair. The likely culprit is gout brought on by some farm raised shrimp I ate the night before. Too rich is something my body rejects. It’s happened before. Just call me limpy this morning. I suppose I should get it checked out today.

Anyway, I got the garage power-washed yesterday despite the inconvenience of the sore ankle. It looks pretty nice this morning. I’m going to have to make a second pass at the walls where the bird poop is proving recalcitrant. I’ll probably get on a ladder for some hand scrubbing. Power-washing a wall over your head is a little wet and messy. I have also decided that the cleaning of the garage should be a more regular affair. It would probably be easier and take less time.

A big part of this realization is me slowly breaking out of the fog of caregiving and grief. When I cared for my wife that was the focus of my life. After her death, I lost that focus, and drifted aimlessly. Now, I’m starting to realize all the things I let go because I was otherwise occupied. I guess you could say it’s my way of putting my life back together. I’m fixing up our house and yard, making things right, putting things back in order, creating a new order. Invigorating in a sense. The re-creation of me, built on the memory of her. I think something nice will come of it.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale