When I heard people comment that their house was “such a mess,” I’d shrug inwardly. I couldn’t relate
Ironically, now that you`re a married woman and out of the house, we’re even closer than before. And maybe that`s why I feel it`s the right time to explain (apologize? rationalize?) why for all of those years of your childhood I wasn`t the housewife and homemaker I’m starting to be today.
It may sound strange, but when you’d rush around before school with a mop, cleaning the floors so that they’d look decent for your friends who’d be coming over after school, I just accepted the situation. I never got rid of all the dishes drying on the counter, and most of the time there was a good selection in the sink. Somehow, I never felt the home was mine. That is, mine to be proud of.
When I heard people comment that their house was “such a mess,” I’d shrug inwardly. I couldn’t relate. My pride was my children, my husband, my teaching, striving for greater spiritual heights, for more kavanah in tefillah, for more knowledge of halachah… what did the house have to do with all that?
It wasn`t that the house was neglected — we did, after all, have a cleaning lady every Friday. Somehow, the house became her territory. I enjoyed new things, but never gave much thought to prettying up the house, even when friends spoke about decorating their homes with new ornaments or investing in new dishes.
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