That’s a long title isn’t it? This morning has been a bit cathartic in a surprising way. We’ve been autumn cleaning – like spring cleaning, but at a different time of the year. Apparently, it’s a thing, according to the man we were just listening to on the radio.
First up for the autumn clean has been a load of kitchen cupboards. We found:
a packet of ground rice, unopened, best before May 2007 – that was the oldest, to be fair. I think I’d got it during a shortbread making spree
5 assorted jars and boxes of ground cinnamon
a jar of something which may once have been prunes but which now looked like an extra from Dr Who
20 mugs we never use
bits of old kitchen equipment we no longer have
three part sets of happy birthday candles
We nearly disposed of Rosie, Cal and Sylv’s hot chocolate mugs. Luckily they were rescued but not before accusations of trying to destroy childhoods.
And then, we had to deal with the empty Pears liquid soap container. That container has been embodying my inner problem with getting rid of things which Rosie may have seen or touched. We’ve never wanted to create some sort of shrine to her. But there is an internal voice, which points out, a bit tentatively, things which would still contain some kind of Rosie DNA. And this soap container was what she was using in the few weeks before she died.
It’s been next to some pottery whistles she bought back for us from Majorca. So why was I more keen (Chris hadn’t noticed it really) to think of her, dying, when I saw the Pears thing, than I was to think of her living and enjoying life, when I saw the whistles. So, not without a bit of difficulty, the Pears soap container has gone into the bin. And I’ve decided to concentrate on rebuilding the memories of Rosie when she was full of life, and not those last few weeks.
And this has been helped by some very wise words by someone who doesn’t like being mentioned in this blog. Autumn means death and decay and short days and fog and ice and summer being a distant memory. And during a moan about it, this wise person said that for her, autumn meant cosy nights, fires, hot chocolate, getting ready for Christmas and all sorts of lovely things. See, concentrating on the good things, not the dismal ones. Wise.