Whether it was drawers, the refrigerator, cabinets, or closets, my Mom believed that cleaning meant pulling out and sorting everything...no hit or miss. It was a sight to see the entire contents all stacked up, dumped, or spread out. The job was time consuming and sometimes tedious. To expose the bare interior; clean every nook and cranny; get rid of dusty, dirty, or sticky places, then determine what was and wasn't suitable to go back inside, was her non-negotiable plan. Expired stuff went into the trash. Broken things that couldn't be fixed, did too. Things that had occupied a space too long and weren't useful, were either repurposed, or tossed as well. Things that had sentimental value didn't necessarily need to be seen, or utilized, but they somehow found themselves dusty. What was good and valuable was obvious, but it got a second look, too. What was salvageable was cleaned and put back where it belonged. Order and transparency was reestablished. She didn't wait until things got out of hand. She knew what was inside when the cleaning was done, and room was made for other useful, wanted, or helpful things.
Maybe police departments need that kind of thorough cleaning, too.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment