I swim through the chaos of your bedroom. I sort, tidy, order, clean, re-arrange, mend, remove and reunite
Lego bits, match attax, top trump cards, matches, badges, marbles, plastic super hero’s, animals, cars, glup, trinkets, a robot dinosaur, magazine’s, books, boxer shorts, bottles of emptied pop, sweetie wrappers, squashed jelly beans, sheets of music, notebooks, schoolbooks, artwork, birthday cards, go-go’s deodorant, spot cream, after shave, hair gel,the king and queen from chess, monopoly money, emptied ink cartridge, dirty mug, guitar,ukulele, roll of a dice, asthma inhaler, jigsaw puzzle piece, doctor who cyber man helmet, nuts, screws, bolts, wooden bricks, knex, family photographs, certificates of appreciation, a cable, a cord, a lead, headphones, cd case, a lizards mask, mexican poncho, light saber, a knights swords and your brother’s lost sandle.
I suck up all the debris your skin, hair and waste all grey and felt like collecting in a ball, spinning in the vacuum.
Waxing my way through a cluttered space to make back your womb-space to wrap your body in clean sheets of love and duvets of comfort.
Chocking on the dust and the delirium of the housework, I escape outside and run to the heathered moorlands wuthering with Heathcliff and holding hands with Sylvia.
Looking out over the valley, I pull in and push out the dust from my mother lungs.
“I have spent twelve hours tidying my twelve year old sons bedroom, an hour of housework for each year of his life. A gift of maternal gestures of love for my son. Gestures to prepare myself for his return home, to make a physical and mental space for him. He was away from home for 19 days, the longest time I have ever spent apart from my son since he was born”