Entry Two - State of Limbo and Cleaning in Cognizance

For a living, I currently clean houses. That of regular people living regular lives, and for those who come and go (vacations). 

I've found how incredibly intimate it sometimes feels to be in someone's space like that. Someone I would have never talked to, nor thought about ever- If I were to be doing something else. 

Each room holds memories upon memories, collected imprints of real human beings experiencing and loving and losing. 

One man who has lost his wife, keeps her photos in his closet- still upright, of them as young newly weds and then as an elderly couple who still loved one another dearly. She was very beautiful, and he was very handsome in their wedding photo. 

Another woman, keeps photos of her father in the basement of the home he built. The home she has spent her whole entire life in- a quaint house nestled in the mountains, somehow far away from the rest of the tormented world. She also had a photo of her as a young girl down there, all black and white and filtered with grain. She was also very beautiful. I imagined her as a teenager spending time in that basement. She could've danced down there alone in her own world, or she could've had friends over to share secrets, laughs and crushes. She tipped me twenty dollars in cash. 

Those are just some examples.

In any case,

These moments remind me how incredibly precious, and heart wrenchingly fragile life is. How fleeting time ticks by and how defiantly memories live on in the face of the falling sands of time. It reminds me to think of my loved ones often, to cherish them as much as I can in the midst of all our collective confusion and hurry. 

Cleaning has shown me limbo. Of life, and of death.