Life is Like a Paper Bag

Yesterday afternoon I was in a cleaning frenzy. Weeks before my trip to Kentucky,  only maintenance cleaning was done on the house;  important things like the litter box, bathtub,  toilet were kept from being abominable,  and a few choice floors were nominally swept or vacuumed. 

Things - like the white tiled bathroom floor - the suitcase with a combo of clean and dirty clothes spilling out onto the floor waiting for another cat mishap - had gotten out of control.  I was living in chaos; there was something in every room that made the house visually annoying.

As I made my way from room to room, I came into the dining room.  Prior to my having to keep the dining room closed (the cats vs. the chairs) , my bag of bags was cleverly stuffed and hidden from view behind the door.  But now it stood out like a sore thumb, ripped and worn, with its contents spilling out onto the floor in full view.  It needed to be replaced with one of the bags inside of it.

I stopped for a moment, and imagined that all the bags were people.  When the main one that holds them all together wears out, another one from the group that is large enough and strong enough takes the place of the one that has bitten the dust.  And thus the cycle goes.

This may seem like a strange comparison, but since the cycle of life and death weigh heavily on my mind in the form of illness, estate problems, burial trust funds, etc., it isn't so strange to me that I see examples of the life cycle in the mundane. 
In the words of Forrest Gump's mother; "Life is like a box of never know what you're gonna get".  And from the deep wisdom of the almost crone....Ms. P,  "life is like a paper bag---you never know when you're going to wear out and be replaced."  Here's to being a Victoria's Secret Bag,
 patti o


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