Cleaning Up & Breaking Down

Tonight I've been cleaning my office/guest room. For such a small room, it sure is overwhelming.

Anyway, I came across sympathy cards, Hanukkah cards, and birthday cards from last year. I opened the one from my parents. It struck me tonight, as it struck me when I read it last year, that it was the first birthday card I had signed by my Dad for both Mom & Dad, rather than Mom's signature for the two of them. She was still alive, but could no longer write. I don't know why I was surprised last year, and why I'm surprised now. She had to dictate to me what she wanted written to people that had sent her well-wishes cards because she didn't like her handwriting...or rather, she didn't have the strength to write. For someone who loved reading and writing, and had taught thousands of children to do both (including my sister and me), it had to be emotionally devastating to her...and I never picked up on it until tonight.

Is cleaning a room supposed to make you cry?