As I survey the wreckage of unpacking, items not being where they belong, and piles of dirty laundry already forming in my new place, I think to myself how much of a slob my new housemate must think I must be. I remember a time in my life where things were more simple. I had fewer belongings, less responsibilities and more time to keep my stuff together. This townhouse is slightly larger than the apartment I moved from, and yet not everything has found its place as of yet. While I sit in my anxiety wondering when this place will be rid of boxes, beds will be made, laundry caught up and things where they “belong”, a small voice whispers “you’re enough”. The extra “clutter” reminds me of another person in my life. One who has been with me through life’s darkest moments. In the very moment of feeling overwhelmed I am gently reminded of this child who has my heart. My son whom I am honored to care for. I will take this beautiful mess.