I remember it so clearly, a few years ago when one of my best friends recited this poem to me. We both had two toddlers at the time and were joking about the chaos. As an Irish speaker, she spoke it ‘as Gaeilge’ first and then in English. It took my breath away when I heard it...
‘Subh Milis’ by Irish writer Séamus Ó Néill.
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Original Bhí subh mhilis Ar bhaschrann an dorais Ach mhuch mé an corraí Ionam a d'éirigh, Mar smaoinigh mé ar an lá Nuair a bheas an bhaschrann glan, Agus an lámh bheag Ar iarraidh. |
Translation There was jam On the door handle But I suppressed the anger That rose up in me, Because I thought of the day when the door handle would be clean And the little hand Gone. |
It gets me every time – sniff.
After the arrival of my three boys my perfectly tidy show home is long gone. It seemed to literally happen overnight, one day I just gave up. I made peace with the clutter, embraced the scratches, and moved all the breakables out of the way! Don’t get me wrong, I can usually be found scrubbing furiously before any visitors arrive, but on a day to day basis I’ve definitely accepted the chaos.
I’ve learned that almost everything can be cleaned away, and the things that can’t are memories from a time when they were small and they lived in a happy house.
Now, I’m off to find a tissue – the last time I saw them they were in the coal bucket!