Serenity

The Old Couple cleans their house on a Sunday evening. The wife usually does it on Saturday, but the family was over for the August Birthday celebration that day. Church is on Sunday, and the grandchildren need their church as much as the couple does. The three-year-old loves the singing. After church, there was a trip to the local Wally World. Necessities were gathered, and toys for the tag-a-long grandchildren. By the time the kids are dropped off, the afternoon was halfway gone. A light lunch at the kitchen table. Leftover pulled pork, chips and a soft drink. The daughter, her thirty-eighth birthday looming on the following day, stopped in. A pleasant chat. She’d bathed the dogs while the couple went to church. She’s handy like that. The decision after lunch made itself. Neither of the couple had much energy left, so Nap Time beckoned. They take their positions in their respective recliners. The Woman puts the tv on a show about some true-life murder, with the volume down low. The Old Man dons his noise-cancelling headphones to keep out the nightmares. Such is the preparation for the Nap. It was a good nap for the Old Man. He seldom had bad ones. The Woman, not so much. She seldom had good naps. Unless the three-year-old napped with her, nestled in her lap. There is no better sleep than to sleep in the arms of someone who loves you unconditionally, and with their entire soul. Such is the love of a child, and the reason their grandparents love them the way they do. The cleaning must be done. It’s a fact. There’s no getting around it. The Woman’s entire life has told her that. Her mother indoctrinated her from an early age and cursed her with a work ethic that won’t allow chores to go undone. Put off till a bit later, maybe, but not neglected. To the Old Man’s dismay, it remains so. She cleans, so he cleans, too. Because he loves her, mostly. Also, because she won’t have it any other way. They listen to headphones and earbuds as they clean. Books, mostly. They both love novels, though their tastes seldom match. She leans towards mystery/romance and him towards westerns/biographies. They clean in the silence of the rooms, yet with words humming through their ears and minds. They transport into the author’s respective universes, with only the functional communication of cleaning passing between them. “Did you clean your bathroom yet?’ “Yes. You can mop.” The conversation went thus, until the house was clean. The dogs newly washed and dried blankets are placed in their beds, and they appreciatively curl up in them. The Old Man gives them one more loving rub-down and tells them good night, and that he loves them. They know this, but they love to hear it anyway. They lay down their heads for the night. The Old Man sits at the dining room table and listens to the sounds from down the hall. The Woman has finished her cleaning long ago, and is now ending her evening bathing ritual. The hair dryer humming tells him that she is almost done. The sound of her audio book afterwards tells him that she is sitting on the bed, listening for a stopping point to end the evening’s activities. The Old Man loves her rituals. She has many, but he loves them all. They all have purpose and a story. She will definitely tell him about the practicality of each one, if he dares to question any. He smiles. He knows that she loves to have order in her life, and will structure it properly if she finds any aspect of it lacking form, or reason. He loves that she tries to find order amid the chaos of life. He feels as if he is the opposite. He loves to find the chaos amid the order. It’s more fun that way, to him at least. They’re different in so many ways. Polar opposites, sometimes. Yet, they love each other. They care about what each other thinks, wants, feels and cares about. They’re the same in that way. Every day they grow older, and their life changes in so many ways, yet each still feel that way towards the other. It must come from the soul, this love. Some kinds of love need touch. Some need intellectual stimulation, and even others need conflict. The Old Couple just need to clean together. That’s called Serenity in my book. (Serenity: defined as “the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled; the absence of mental stress or anxiety.) I’m sure glad the Old Couple found each other. God bless Y’all.

Author: Kevin Stone

Kevin Stone aspires to write stories that you will enjoy. I hope to tell tales of the Stone Family that all generations may to come may read. I'll also write stories of all kinds, true and fiction, just for you to enjoy. View all posts by Kevin Stone