August Nine

Homecoming Sabotage

    In the days before our vacation to Maine, I raced about cleaning. I wanted the house to be in good shape for our return, and I especially wanted to avoid the pitfalls that have snared me in the past. Pitfalls that I like to lump together under the term: Homecoming Sabotage. 
    One of the earliest incidents of Homecoming Sabotage was when I was in college. I came back from Winter Break and there was a ferocious stink in my room. So bad, in fact, that it brought tears to the RA’s eyes and no one could enter the room for long enough to find out the source. A janitor was called and in a feat of olfactory bravery, he identified the culprit. Broccoli. In the mini-fridge. For weeks. It was clearly me who left it there: I was the vegetarian who stockpiled veggies, the fridge was mine, and I was the sloppy one in our triple. We had to get rid of the entire refrigerator. I just felt lucky my roomies kept me.

    Another time, when I was a new mom, I accidentally left laundry in the washing machine before going on a two week vacation. Wet laundry. Clean when I left, moldy and rank when I returned. It was a very special, smelly welcome home. I had to throw out the clothing because that moldy scent would not rinse out.

    I specialize in that kind of homecoming. Only other sloppy people can understand how it happens. It’s not that I don’t try. It’s just that something is lost in the process. Usually an important detail.

    Like a couple years ago, when I responsibly cleaned the fridge out before going on vacation. I tossed the stuff that would expire, and poured out the milk and leftovers into the garbage disposal. If only I had run the disposal. 

    We returned from a week at the beach to a toxic hazard. It was summertime in Upstate New York, and we did not have an air conditioner. My husband went inside first and came out with a ghastly expression on his face. He had to put his hands on his knees and deep breathe. He thought something had died in there. He wouldn’t let us go in until a full investigation revealed the culprit to be… my absentmindedness. I think I was waiting to run it until my daughters woke from their naps and then I forgot. (Naps were very hard won in those days.) We ran the disposal, and poured gallons of cleanser and vinegar and baking soda down the pipes.
    Flash forward several years and several more Homecoming Sabotages until it is 2014.
    This time, I promised myself, it would be different. No noses would be harmed in the making of this vacation. Before our trip to Maine, my kids were at camp. I had ample time to vacuum, sweep, wipe down, fold, and double check the toilets. (Oh, yeah, that’s a real Homecoming Sabotage that you better hope you never see/smell.) 

    While cleaning, I thought about how different your house looks through loaner eyes, which is when you are able to see your own home through a new perspective, as if you didn’t live there. I get loaner eyes before people I don’t know well come over. Suddenly, I notice how they will see things. Same thing happens when I come home from vacation. My immunity builds up when I’m home every day. But after being gone on vacation, my eyes are fresh and I am able to notice how it really smells, looks, and feels.
    If you are like me, once you settle in to your home, you stop noticing little cracks and dents and chips and broken things. At first they don’t register as strongly, and then they often become invisible. Until your loaner eyes come out. 

    Only with my loaner eyes, before guests come or after a long absence, do I see certain imperfections. A crack that I plastered up and never got around to painting over. Wow. Has that really been there a year? The vent that I felt so proud when I cleaned, but then couldn’t find the second screw to re-attach it. Has it really been months since I did that? The discolored hardwood near the dog door. The slow sink. Broken ice maker. Lost garage door opener. Those things are invisible to me unless I have my loaner eyes on. 

    I tried to address as many as I could before I left. When I get home, I’m sure I will be impressed for at least an hour. And then the default settings will slowly creep back in, as I start to relax. I won’t see the worn and cracked bits and pieces, I’ll only see the place I call home. Imperfections are what make it mine.

    I like how loaner eyes, or flashes of realization, are purposeful, and then conveniently give way to the blinders of everyday vision. Like blinders, I believe the goggles of familiarity help me to focus, and look ahead, instead of letting all the distractions and peripheral noise lure me off my path. My path, my destination, is to be comfortable in my own home, in my own skin. I embrace my sloppy, my mistakes, and my triumphs because they are me. Loving yourself is the real homecoming. And that welcome home sign is hard won, earned through sabotages of all sorts, and certainly worth the trip.

You know it's true, 
~gregorific