Clutter

I remember the day that I stood in my kitchen and thought, I have too much clutter. I wish I could get rid of it all at once.  I look back on that moment and recognize that it was a rash wish. It is one that I would never make again.

My husband and I were on our way back from a business trip.  We had our six-year-old son with us. My in-laws were staying with our two teen-age daughters. We had stopped in Las Vegas to visit with family.   After we got back from dinner, there was a phone call for me.  My sister said, “Sit down. There’s been a fire in your home.  It’s bad, but everyone is safe.”

I could see the stunned, apprehensive looks on the face of my husband, my siblings and their families. I learned that our daughters were staying with our next-door neighbor and my in-laws had been checked at the hospital and were staying at the Residence Inn.  We drove all night and arrived home the next morning to view a pile of debris on our front lawn.  The fire had totally destroyed our living room and flashed across the ceiling into the kitchen. The entire house was dark, and a layer of soot covered everything. One small spark was the unexpected solution to an accumulation of clutter. A spark from an old TV in the living room was the culprit in this disaster.  We were the victims.

We moved into a rented house and began the process of clearing out our home so the reconstruction could begin.  It was a dirty, sooty process. I posted a sign on the skeleton of our sofa that dominated the debris on the lawn. “Fire Sale.  Everything Must Go.” I smiled as I returned to the soot and ashes inside.  My friends would know I was all right. 

My daughter had left money on the desk in her room. Now it was covered in soot.  I plunged it into soapy water, washed it and hung it up to dry. I heard my daughter talking to her grandmother on the phone. “I was filthy rich,” she said, “until Mom laundered my money.”  I smiled. She was going to be all right too.

Sometimes things are so difficult, so challenging, that the only thing I can do is laugh at them. A smile and a joke can lift my spirits and make things feel a little better.  It doesn’t change the situation I am facing, but it changes me.  For me, humor can be the stop sign to a downward spiral of sadness or self-pity or gloom.  If I can smile, it sets an example for those around me—and maybe they can smile too.