I just …

I just …

Before Sherri’s illness transitioned all of the household chores to me, I would often catch her vacuuming behind me. It used to irritate me no end. Let me be honest – it made me angry. I would always say something, and she would be quick to say what I did was fine but she just noticed something. Yada, yada, yada. Truth is, I just didn’t do it as well as she did and she was redoing it.

At first, I would think to myself that if I couldn’t do it well enough for her she could do it herself. The truth is she did do it herself more times than naught. Early in our marriage I did very little of the housework. Looking back now I was a bit of a jerk when it came to that. I made all the excuses – I’m tired from work. I don’t really know how to do it. So on and so on. Fact of the matter is I didn’t like doing it. And I still don’t like doing it.

As Sherri got sicker, she finally admited she couldn’t do it any more. (Of course, this came after multiple attempts left her gasping for air and being forced to hear me lecture her about it.) I picked up the responsinbilities and if she were honest, I am sure there were many times she wanted to grab the vacuum and go behind me. But she accepted the fact she couldn’t do it any more and I accepted the fact I had to do it.

Now, when I vacuum, I leave it out for a while. Why, you ask? Because I know I am going to see something I missed or the cats are going to leave another layer of fur on the carpet and I am going to need to vacuum again. I catch mysef chuckling from time to time thinking I am turning into Sherri. I wish I could, but I simply understand now what she did – even our best efforts at times simply aren’t good enough and we need to try again.

As I look around my home (it’s taking quite a lot of effort to not call it our home) I realize there is so much that needs done. The whole house needs repainted. The carpets need cleaned (or eventually removed and hardwoods put in). The kitchen really needs renovated (something Sherri desperately wanted to do). The master bath could use a new look. On and on my mind races through the projects I want to do.

Here’s the thing: I want to change the house to make it more mine. But somewhere in the back of my mind I also think I want to change things because the memories of it being our house are so painful. Truth is no matter what I do to the house it will still be “our” house. Memories were made here – although many of them were not necessarily pleasant as the house was her cell until she passed away. Sure, I want it to be the best house for my daughter and I, but I also would like a bit of positive change to counter all the negative change of the last seven months.

The vacuum is put up for the day, but I almost can here it running again. And I can see Sherri’s slight smile and her saying, “I just…” I just wish she was here to vacuum behind me. I just she was here to make her “excuse” for why she was doing things again. I just wish she would spend the rest of the day trying to smooth my ruffled feathers. I just wish she was still here.


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