All of our kids are coming. We have been anticipating this gathering for a year and while the particulars have morphed like most of our careful planning these months, it will happen. One couple will drive rather than fly. We will scrub bathrooms more often, and resist sharing dishes. 

 

In getting ready, locals have been cleaning the house. Not just a lick and a promise but with our heads in the corners and closets. Every day our surroundings get a little lighter, and more welcoming. I got up close and personal with the piles that have accumulated over time, and weeded out books that really deserve more attention than they were getting, The twins made a heap of coins from various drawers and dresser jars, and rolled them in colored papers. They tested a hundred pens and markers, and tossed the duds. John scraped paint off the second floor where we pulled up the rugs awhile back. I sorted shelves in the sewing room, and took shoes no one wears to the thrift store. 

 

It began as a way of expressing our gratitude that adult kids have taken off work and schlepped long miles to sleep under our roof. Fresh sheets and washed curtains are a way to say " I love you!" It seems certain that they will be pleased. 

 

And yet the side plot is that we actually live here. It is a blessing to enjoy our space before the company comes, and will continue to be after the last goodbye. 

 

Sometimes I prod myself into cleaning up my behavior, for the benefit of people around me. Holding my tongue rather than complaining is a way of respecting my husband, and honoring my kids. It's puzzling that silence can take more effort than speaking. 

 

Yet what surprises me is that I get to enjoy the benefits of living in a personhood that is less cantankerous. When negative thoughts are swept away, my thinking is lighter. More airy. If I take the time to toss the dead end comments, there is more room for things worth saying. And hearing.