The Happy Light

You cannot imagine the week after Christmas (Hanukkah) when you clean/ organize homes for a living. Not only is everyone imaginable still around, (owners on vacation, college kids sleeping late, grandma in the spare room (flat surfaces lined with pill bottles and denture cream), but there are many new "additions" to the household.

Today, I was in the Kirby's palatial and most beautiful home (all names on this blog have been changed to very appropriate metaphorical names.)

The Kirby's (Twitter and Wax)-are two lovely folks in their mid 50's whose 2 successful children are recently out of college and moved into their own stylish spaces. Twitter is an attractive woman, thin and wispy, smiley and full of anecdotal verbiage spoken in a sing-song voice. When she is home...I have only witnessed her doing laundry with joy. She puts underwear and towels in the dryer...everything else is hung on elaborate piping run through the basement. Twitter works outside the home (only as a hobby) at a near-by high school. "It's fun and something to do!" she chirps.

Wax is Twitter's very non- politically-correct, sociably adept, type A , executive type who likes his shower stalls waxed in order to repel water. He collects heirloom vacuum cleaners , clocks and watches. The time pieces are all synchronized and the house clocks chime simultaneously. Get the picture?

Today, at the Kirby's, I was greeted by the smiling couple's duet of "Happy New Year!" and a hug and a kiss from each. I have been working for them for over 9 years. These people, like many of my clients, are like my family.

Wax proceeded to take leave, running to the plumbing outlet for a special part. Twitter kissed him and told him to drive carefully ! She turned to me smiling with her tiny hands clapsed. "Gosh it's been a whirlwind week!" she giggled. "You may need to shovel your way through here!"

I made my way through my routine of upstairs bathrooms first, then bedrooms, then hallway. I moved to the first floor and began on the bathrooms there. Twitter was folding laundry as she watched TV. I moved into the kitchen and noticed a large , white, plastic box on the kitchen table. It looked like a miniature tanning bed standing up on it's end.

"What's this, Twitter?" I asked, pointing.

"It's the Happy Light." Twitter said, unhappily.

"Happy Light?" I questioned

"Happy Light." she answered softly

"For Wax....?" I asked

"For me." Twitter said, no sing song to be heard.

I looked at Twitter, our eyes locked. She soon looked down at her manicured hands . There was silence, the clocks audibly ticked.

"I'm depressed...have been for so many years that I can't remember the last time I was not."

"YOU are?" I said...thinking about everything beautiful thing I have just polished in the last hour and 1/2.

"I can't handle the medications, the therapists aren't helping , this is my last resort...I got it for Christmas from Wax. Light Therapy. I'm supposed to sit in front of it for 30 minutes a day. I have been eating my Special K and reading the paper every morning in front of it."

"For you?" I repeated.

Go figure.