Offer It Up

I'm one of those women who never "got" house-work. My parents house was always neat and tidy. Mine is not. Mine is a disaster. My mother would often ask me "How can you live like this?" I never could answer because I don't know; I hate having mess and chaos and grotty grime and all that. Perhaps it reflects the chaos and mess and grotty grime that is in my head. It causes the mess and chaos and grotty grime. It's one of those catch-22's.
My mother's ashes are sitting on top of my tall bookshelf and she would be horrified at the state of my apartment; particularly the kitchen. (I just spent an hour in there scrubbing some brown .... goo ... off my counter). Last Tuesday I spent an hour with Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, praying for my mother's soul and for all the souls in Purgatory. I offered to suffer any physical pain to alleviate hers. But the answer came to me as I was sitting quietly: the best Penance I could offer would be to clean my apartment. It sounds silly but it makes perfect sense: I absolutely abhor housework. There is no way my mom can be at peace whilst her earthly remains are in this cesspool of filth. So, I offer up my disgust and repulsion for her. I hope it gives her at least a little relief.