My husband had spent years believing that success was measured by how much money someone made.
I learned that night that success can also mean having the courage to start over when the life you built turns out to be wrong.
Today, I still clean one house.
Just one.
It’s an elderly woman’s home at the end of my street.
She reminds me of the person I used to be.
Every Friday morning, I go there with my supplies.
I clean her kitchen.
I dust her shelves.
I wash her windows.
And when I finish, she always hands me a cup of tea.
She never calls me a cleaning lady.
She calls me Linda.
And somehow, that feels like enough.
