You Need to Work on Your Sweeping

By Rich Grady

It’s been nearly four years since my wife passed away. I think of her all the time. Every morning when I walk into the kitchen, I grab the broom and start to sweep, as she always did. I am always amazed at how many crumbs and dirt particles fill the dustpan – far more than I see when they are all spread out on the floor. This is something that would not have surprised my wife. She understood all of the realities of keeping and managing a house, and much more than that.

My wife worked as a teacher at the local elementary school. She volunteered in the community. She helped our parents as they got older. She took care of our kids – she knew where they had to be and when, and was their chauffeur before they could drive. She went to their games, cheered for them, and coached or refereed when needed. She took care of them when they were sick, bought them clothes as they grew, and gave them presents on their birthdays and at Christmas. And when we were blessed with grandkids, she was an amazing grandmother. I will always be proud to have been her husband.

When she was gripped by cancer for the third time, I did my best to do all the chores that she had done for decades, but could no longer do as she battled the disease and endured the various treatments and hospital stays. I began to do the laundry, fold the clothes, go grocery shopping, run errands, vacuum, wash the floor, dust, polish the furniture, plant flowers, water the plants, clean the bathrooms, do the dishes, figure out meals, pay the bills, and cook. And I’m sure I left some things off the list of chores that she did before I took over.

When we were both working full-time, I responded willingly to her occasional requests for help, and thought I was doing my best to be helpful. I truly appreciated all that she did, but never actually knew how much time and effort it took to perform all of the chores around the house, until she got very sick and I needed to step up. As I became more aware of the amount of work through my own efforts, I began to feel that I could’ve and should’ve done more over the years to share the workload. She did a lot without my help, and without complaining or bragging about it.

She had always told me that I was capable of doing the chores around the house that she did, but until I took over, I wasn’t sure. I sought her reassurance that I was doing things right when it was my turn. I didn’t always put things away where she put them, and I didn’t always fold or iron the clothes the same as she did, but she didn’t get riled when I’d teasingly confess my slip-ups. She would just give me an amused smile.

When her end was near, but before I would even let that possibility creep into my head, she said to me, “You’re doing a good job – you’ll be fine on your own.” I teared up – I didn’t want to think about being on my own, and she could see that it made me very sad to hear her say those words. With perfect timing, she delivered a truthful punchline that made me laugh, which was:

“But you need to work on your sweeping.” She knew that was a true statement, and so did I. We both laughed, as we often did together.

And so, it has become my daily mantra to speak her words out loud as I enter the kitchen and reach for the broom. It has given me a whole new outlook on housework and life in general. It also reminds me of my wife’s sense of humor and kind but direct manner. She was

down-to-earth and could quickly reduce complex situations to their simple, honest essence. To me, she was amazing, and I always told her so. I still do. And every morning, I sense a knowing grin on my wife’s face as she sees me look at the dustpan in amazement at the crumbs that I sweep up, even though I can’t see them on the floor – it’s a gift that keeps on giving.