Week 6
It’s very late on a Friday night. Mr. Wonderful and I have recently gotten home from our friend’s house where we’ve been with one of “The Gang” on a day nobody wants to have.
Life changed at 4:06 pm on February 8, 2019.
As I was perched on the edge of my stool at the desk in my office determining what I wanted to have for my Decluttering and Organizing Weekly Challenge Week 6 topic, my cell phone rang. I had been carefully reviewing the possibilities while I looked over my 52 topics. I like to do them ahead and schedule them in advance (you know, to be proactive and prepared). Should I do the outdated electronics or should I do the miscellaneous/orphan cords? Or should I do the dining room table? Yes, the dining room table. I flipped the paper over that had the 52 challenges and I wrote the number 6 on the next available line then beside that I penciled in the words dining room table with the date of 2/11. That was when life changed. As my phone rang, I saw on the display screen that it was my closest friend here in Tennessee, Sylvia.
“Did Barry call you?” she asked right away. I thought perhaps they had changed their minds about their son buying the vehicle that I was trying to sell on a client’s behalf. She had passed away and the process has been lengthy to buy it. After I said that he had not called me, the next words stunned me. Knocked me off my feet and left me dumbstruck. “Dennis passed away.”
“Are you serious?!” I blurted out, unable to believe what she just said. In that moment, I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Though Dennis has just recently became sick and was having a hard time shaking it, he wasn’t on death’s door by any means. He was a strong man, full of life and energy. So how in the world can this be? I was just shocked.
Dennis had gone in this morning to UT Hospital, bright and early on a chilly winter’s day in East Tennessee, to have a simple operation to fix a hernia that has recently started to bother him. He and his wife, Theresa, drove to the hospital together. During the surgery, his heart stopped. They performed CPR. They could not revive him. He was gone.
Barry was the one Theresa thought to call. Barry called Sylvia and Sylvia called me. They were going to go over to the hospital as soon as Barry arrived home from work. I asked if they needed me to come along as well. Barry and Sylvia are the lead deacons on call this weekend so I wasn’t sure about inviting myself along. I was unsure about how the whole deacon thing works when they do hospital visitations or when they visit a family that has just had a death. Sylvia agreed that I should also go. We were all part of “The Gang.” The six of us. Barry and Sylvia, Dennis and Theresa, and Mr. Wonderful and I. The original gang. We’ve since expanded to include several other couples. But right now, it was members of the original gang going to be there for one of our own.
Since Friday’s are my office day, I get the liberty of not taking a shower nor doing my hair nor putting on makeup. With my hair in a pony tail, I don my oh-so-soft leggings, super comfy sneakers, and my favorite hoodie then scoot my way down the hall to my home office. So when I got the news and was going to go to the hospital on a moment’s notice, I called Mr. Wonderful as I scurried back down the hall to my bathroom to at least slap on some eyeliner and mascara and brush my teeth. I quickly made myself presentable as minimally as humanly possible before running out the door.
The traffic is heavy. It’s Friday late afternoon and everyone is getting out of work. We have construction. Construction lasts forever and a day here. And today I was painfully aware of the slow pace through the construction zone. The traffic light up ahead was red. I waited. It turned green and red again. I waited. And yet again. Three rotations. Painfully long as I prayed that I would get through. I felt the urgency to get to Barry and Sylvia’s house so we can get to the hospital where our friend, Theresa, has been waiting.
After I arrived at Barry and Sylvia’s, the three of us finally left when Barry got home. Finally. It seems as though time was both racing and standing still simultaneously. How can that be?
Construction. Have I mentioned the construction? More construction. More rush hour traffic. Stop and go. Bumper to bumper. Are we ever going to get to the hospital? I look at the digital clock on the dash. At least two hours have passed from the time Barry got the call to us nearing the hospital. Almost there.
As we pulled up to the main entrance, Barry said he would drop us off while he parked the vehicle. We agreed. He mentioned she would be in the lobby. As the vehicle was coming to a stop, Sylvia and I had already begun our departure, unclicking our seatbelts, each grasping our purse in one hand and the door handle in the other. Opening the vehicle doors, I felt the rush of brisk air. We hurried to the main entrance doors, not knowing what we were going to say to our friend who has just been dealt the biggest blow of her life. Through the doors, we searched for her. She’s sitting on a bench talking on her cell phone and beside her were Dennis’s clothes in three white plastic bags with drawstrings. We hugged. We cried. We talked. We took her home.
She apologized for her house stating it was messy and she was sorry that she hadn’t invited me over sooner. People tend to apologize around me and it is bothersome because they think I’ve got it all together since I am a Professional Organizer. On the contrary. I told her that I had laundry on my dining room table hoping to let her know I was not judging her and that I can relate. What I didn’t tell her was that along with all the clothes on the dining room table since yesterday, I didn’t make beds or put away the entertaining dishes from the Super Bowl party or take care of the pile of mail that has come in over the last few days. Life happens.
We stayed with her for hours. We were there for her when she needed someone the most. We talked about Dennis. About preparations. About my endeavors. About Barry and Sylvia’s children both being engaged. We talked about family. And friends. And on many occasions, she apologized for not having all of us over before. Dennis wanted to but she didn’t. She compared our houses with hers commenting that our houses were so pretty and perfect. I cringe. I have battled perfectionism for so long. It’s such a high unachievable, unobtainable, stressful goal that robs you of relationships. I struggled with it until I met Mr. Wonderful and saw how his mom was so hospitable and the condition of her house didn’t matter at all to her. Or to us. When we had family gatherings, I observed how everyone had such a grand time laughing and enjoying each other despite cluttered counters and a million little tchotchkes lining shelves.
Relationships are what we all crave. God made us to be relational. We need relationships. To find our tribe. To belong. That’s why I do what I do. And that’s why I say that decluttering and organizing isn’t about making room for more stuff. It’s about making room for important relationships – family, friends, community. I make a difference so you can make a difference.
Your challenge for this week isn’t decluttering and organizing the dining room. Your challenge this week is to invite people over to have a meal at the dining room table. To invite someone over for coffee or tea or play cards or to chat while your children play together with your spouses bonding in the garage/workshop/mancave. Your challenge is to step out of your comfort zone and live life with the ones you love. Don’t wait until it’s too late to build relationships. Don’t wait until it’s too late and you can no longer gather together. Don’t wait to take the mask off. Don’t wait until you bring your spouse to the hospital and come home with their clothes in plastic bags. We need each other. The good parts. The messy parts. And everything in between. Go home and love your family and friends. Live life to the fullest.