I went away for a while and left no-one to tend my small apartment. I left it clean and in good order and expected to return to find it as I left it. It’s not much, but it’s my home, my little world.
Yet with no loving hand to tend it, it fell into disrepair.
The dust settled over the face of everything, the plants withered and died, the garbage (which I’m sure I had taken out) had rotted and left an unpleasant smell everywhere. The fridge was bare, the water in the taps had a strange colour from disuse and the power was off. Cut off due to unpaid bills.
There was no laughter, no music, no life in this place. Either dead or sleeping.
Everywhere I looked there were things to clean, repair, replace and in dire need of fresh air to blow away the stench.
The task seemed impossible and I wanted to give up and leave it to rot. But I could not.
It’s my home.
I cannot just turn my back on it and look away.
Where to start? Which place to tidy, clean or care for first? How to bring this dead world back to life?
I summoned all my energy and willpower, took a deep breath and started. It didn’t matter where. Anywhere. Just to feel I was doing something.
Turn on the taps and the stereo, clean the dust, remove the garbage, tend the plants, fill the cupboards with food once more.
At first the small touches seemed to have no impact on the emptiness, the mess and lack of life. But bit by bit, step by step it started to recover. Started to breathe again. What had seemed hopeless and beyond saving came back to life. Laughter returned. Music was heard once more, softly at first, so as not to disturb the silence. Two steps forward and one step back – I had to live in that place and with living comes disturbance and a certain chaos.
And now, it still gets a little unruly at times. The mess, a consequence of living in this small world of mine.
Next time I leave, I’ll find some careful tenants to look after it for me.
It’s the least I can do.
