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Post by iguanamamma on Dec 6, 2008 2:00:22 GMT -5
Cleaning the bathrooms of dead people started when I was 14. My Grandfather died in the bathroom of a heart attack and when he fell he cracked his head on one of the fixtures and bled -ALOT. Nobody got around to cleaning it until the excitement had died down and that was the next day. My Grandmother would cry when she looked in there and my Mother and sisters refused to go into the room. I will grant you that the light in the room was flickering and it was creepy. I got tired of waiting for someone to do something about the blood and grabbed a bucket and some Lysol and a sponge and went in there to clean it. As I cleaned I spoke to my grandfather like he was there. I had no idea that I somehow signed a contract with the universe that when a family member dies I end up cleaning their bathroom. So I have cleaned up after my Grandfather. When my Grandmother went I of course was called on to clean the bathroom because I had done it before. When my mother's cousin died I cleaned out her bathroom (nicest one so far she used Avon bath products). I cleaned out my husband's Grandmother's bathroom-it was nasty and dusty. Then when my FIL died in his bedroom I cleaned up the bathroom next to his room. He was a chemist and he had been a pharmicist's mate in the Navy. He had strange medicinal compounds in his bathroom. My MIL didn't want me to clean everything out so some stuff stayed. Now,I am cleaning out my MIL bathroom. I have taken out 15 sacks of 30 gallon size bags and can finally see the shelves. Then I have to go and clean all the crap out of my FIL bathroom for the final time. I have been warned about that bathroom by several relatives already. What fun!One of my really good friends ended up ina a mental hospital after cleaning the bathroom that her brother had commited suicide in. I told her not to go do it and to call in a professional but her family was abusive and they didn't care that she was distressed. I told my husband that this is my last bathroom. I have done all that I am doing.
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Post by notsomessyshell on Dec 6, 2008 2:12:30 GMT -5
If I tell you I am an avon lady will you come clean my bathroom. I will even be alive when you do it! (Hope my levity does not offend.)
What a gift you have. Not many people can do what you are able to do. I like how you spoke to your grandfather. Thank you for sharing your story.
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Post by iguanamamma on Dec 6, 2008 2:25:33 GMT -5
I apparently am good at cleaning bathrooms. Yes, will trade bathroom cleaning for Avon products. How I talked to my Grandfather was pretty simple. I just talked to him. I told him that I would miss him.I told him that he had made a hell of a mess out of the bathroom but I knew that he couldn't have helped it. I told him that I hoped that he didn't hurt for very long and that when he fell it didn't hurt. Years later I was in a very serious car wreck. The seat belt system failed and my arm was broken and tangled in the seat belt. Since the car was tipping over I should have slid over to the driver's side but for some reason I didn't. The car came to a stop on more of a level after the drunk driver that hit us stopped his car. A few days after the wreck, I had this very vivid dream that I was back in the car and my at this point long dead Grandfather was beside me. His body was blocking my slide over to the driver's side. He said to me "See, I did a good job stopping you from sliding." When I said "Yes and thanked him.He said "Well, I owed you for the bathroom." I do realize that I was on massive painkillers and it could have just been a dream but....
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Post by notsomessyshell on Dec 6, 2008 2:44:21 GMT -5
That gave me goosebumps! How awesome. I helped clean my grandma's apartment after she passed. My mother and my aunt and myself. We told all kinds of stories about her while we cleaned. It was so comforting.
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Post by Little_Ninja on Dec 6, 2008 4:37:19 GMT -5
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Post by Arid on Dec 6, 2008 15:06:32 GMT -5
There is a book called OTHER PEOPLE'S DIRT: A Housecleaner's Curious Adventures, by Louise Rafkin. In it, there is a chapter about the people who do the clean-up following murders and suicides. I have to admit, that until I read this book, it was not something that I ever had considered, but the fact remains--somebody has to do it!
Arid
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Post by fluffernut - now Jannie on Dec 6, 2008 17:38:10 GMT -5
My MIL was a widow and lived with her single daughter. After MIL died, her daughter kept a photo in the living room of "Mom" and spoke to it often. She still does, three years later.
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Post by heylady1 on Dec 6, 2008 19:01:48 GMT -5
Iguanamamma, that was no ordinary dream honey. My husband's grandfather passed away oh, 19 and a half years ago or so. I really liked him, he was such an interesting person!! When my son was born, Pawpaw would come over every day (he lived down the street) to see him and we would talk. Well, he passed away and it was very sad but he was very old and had lived a very full and interesting life. One day when my son was about 6 months old, he grabbed something off the living room floor and stuck it in his mouth. I was sleeping in the bedroom (I worked nights and hubby was watching him) when my hubby burst in the door with the baby in his arms yelling he's choking he's choking! I tell him call 911 and I try to see what he's choking on but I don't see anything...I stick my finger in there and I can feel something way, way back but I can't reach it and I'm freaking out when I feel Pawpaw's presence come over me and I hear him in my head and he says to try one more time and I do and that's when it came out and my son threw up all over me. I was never so happy in my life!! I thanked Pawpaw believe me!! So I 100% believe that your Grandfather really did save you....  |
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Post by morningglory on Dec 7, 2008 18:01:24 GMT -5
Wow! Amazing, moving stories!
And I agree--you don't have to clean anyone's bathroom, alive or dead, other than your own!
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Post by dayeanu on Dec 12, 2008 21:15:04 GMT -5
Messyshell,  , I love your comment. I find myself in these situations sometimes. Friends of ours owned a little country store down the road from us, and another close friend was working for them. Unfortunately, her 12 y/o daughter was there with her. Some guys came in and blasted them with shotguns, killing the daughter, and almost the mother. My daughter and I walked in as the guys were rushing out of the store. Thankfully they didn't shoot us. Days after the shooting, my friends the owners couldn't bear to go back into the store and neither could anyone else. Somebody had to do it, so after about a week, my daughter and I went in and cleaned it up. After that, people always looked to me to do anything gross or disgusting. |
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Post by dayeanu on Dec 12, 2008 21:22:48 GMT -5
As for the dream, I believe there is a lot more to the universe than can easily be known or understood. Perhaps he was your guardian angel, who knows. I certainly don't discount it.
The whole thing about cleaning up after tragedies brings up a question to me. I was reading on another thread about how we sometimes see our squalor, but more often times don't. I think maybe we don't see it because it is our defense mechanism, otherwise we couldn't survive with the chaos. I'm wondering if most squalorees are more capable of coping with stressful or gross situations than the average person. I seem to have a high tolerance for dealing with crises, and things that other people find just too unpleasant.
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Post by phoebepj on Dec 13, 2008 21:31:22 GMT -5
i definitely believe there are guardian angels out there. I've never met my grandfather (mom's dad) as he passed before i was born, but i feel like i've got a connection with him. When i was 13, i went boating with my dad, mom, sister, my dads cousin, his wife and his son. We were all standing on the dock refueling the boat and taking a bathroom break when mom and i see this 3 yr old kid wandering the dock by himself while his parents were too occupied to care. my mom leaned over to me and said, next thing you know that kid is gonna be in the water, I nodded and had my back to the kid. The kid had figured out how to shift his weight on a boat hull to make it move up and down in the water from the dock.. one foot on boat and one foot on dock. I hear a voice saying "turn around". It was a male voice, but i ignored it, the voice came louder and louder 2 more times with the last time being so loud like someone was standing behind me. I turned around and saw the kids head slip underwater. I dove on the dock with just enough time to save the kid. I firmly believe that my grandfather was my angel on my shoulder that day and he watched out for that kid and told me to look.
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