AN ORDERLY LIFE

I have just a sliver of memory when I was toddler. I distinctly remember that the plastered walls of my bedroom, which I shared with my twin and probably older siblings, were painted dusty rose--my father's favorite color because it reminded him of his flowers. My crib was against the corner wall and a regular sized bed was next to it. A chest of drawers with bobbled legs was placed by the entry door and was stuffed with clothes, treasures, odds and ends, an all sorts of things.

It must have been in the morning, for the bed was not made and the room felt cluttered with clothes and toys on the floor. I remember standing in the crib in my pajamas. My hair was tangled as though I had been tossing and turning all night--straggly as I remember it. I had woken up and my mother came into the room to get me out of the crib. I told my mother that a "too too train went through my bed last night." She thought that was so cute. I do too. It was cute. I was cute!

Although I was just a toddler, I remember vividly how I felt. I didn't like the room that particular morning. It was displeasing to me. It felt unkempt. I have never liked that feeling. I like order in my life, in my thoughts, in my actions, and in my home. I think I was an orderly person in the pre-existence. It seems to be a predominant characteristic of mine. I love cleanliness, order, and a certain routine. My soul wells up with feelings of anxiety if my life is not in order. Thank heavens for files, folders, and organizing boxes. It just makes life so much easier for me. I can think, feel, and function more clearly if I have order in my life.

I am grateful for my memory, although just a sliver, for it helps me to understand myself better. I was born this way. After all if a "too too train" is going to run through my bedroom at night, I had better have the room in straight and in order. Wouldn't want the passengers to see my room out of sorts!