Each time over the past months that I had gone somewhere and came back home, I ‘parked’ my bag in our bedroom with the very firm intention to empty it and store it away. Today, I finally started to empty almost half a dozen bags from different journeys, including those from the Camino. You can now get into the room again without breaking your neck, but there is still a lot of clearing up left to be done.
When I left the big suitcase we bring with us for Pádraig’s stuff when we travel in his room, I couldn’t believe how organised and cleaned up it was. Probably the best organised room in the house. It looked even better as the late afternoon sunlight came in from the windows on the two walls. His is the only room in the house with windows on two walls which makes it the really bright.
When it hit me why it was so cleaned up, so organised, I felt my body flushed out. That feeling of total emptiness and shock I’m not experiencing that often anymore.
Life goes on. We make new memories all the time. Old memories fade away. Until something happens that just shouldn’t.
There’s that room. And it shouldn’t be so well kept. It should be messy.
Hospi-Tales 
Thank you for helping me the see the futility of fussing about a messy room. Nothing wrong with simple chaos.
There are so many things we share, Ruth. It mightn’t look like it on the surface, but at the end of the day we’re all in the same boat (if we choose it) while life passes by and we try to steer the boat as best as we can. I really like the idea of the Dreamboat, better than a big stinky commercial tanker and even better than a luxurious cruise ship. Messy rooms, burned dinners, unanswered phone calls, ‘no time, so busy’, are all things that bother us but aren’t that important at the end of the day, if you think about it. At times, those things are even good because they’re a sign of us being there and being involved. Consider the opposite. It would be terribly lonely.