I’m not a clean freak.  Really.

But I do like things tidy.

Way back when, a lifetime ago (when things were more stressful), I was the one who did the deep-cleaning (and the light cleaning as well) in the household.  Vac, mop, walls, etc.

Some of that was personal preference, some a reaction to the living situation.

Things are better now so I’m more relaxed.  Having had a decade of living with boxes of items all round, and in various locales tends to bring perspective into what’s important.

But some things I’m still a stickler about.  Walls, carpet, and floorboards, for one.

When the grandboy and his momma needed a safe haven to run to, there was no hesitation.  But I very quickly remembered how exciting life is when you’ve a pint-sized walking ball of energy  mixed with food and mud and sometimes the occasional sniffly, vomit-y mess that comes with the package.

Momma’s good about making sure things are kept to a standards minimum.  But I do find I scrub the walls a little more often than I used to.

Except for one spot.

This is is my reminder of how blessed we grandparents are and how I in particular am blessed to have good relationships with my kids – all of them, thankfully.

I was cleaning up one day, about 2½ years ago, when I came upon this patch of mud spread across the doorjamb.  The grandboy had been playing outside with momma in the dirt and used the doorjamb to steady his step up to the next part of the landing.

It occurred to me right then how strong a message this little bit of mess held for me.

The two of them had only been living here for a couple of months.  My daughter had trusted me to help out in a bad situation.  Her boy had no clue what was going on – he barely knew how to walk up a single step without help.  At that moment in time, I hadn’t a clue how long my visitors would be staying with me, but already I knew things would be forever changed no matter how long they stayed.

This is a smeary mess.  I know that.  But it’s also a symbol of trust and respect between myself and family, odd as it sounds.  I’ve actually protected it with a clear coat of gloss – now that the littleun is helping to clean, he may accidentally wipe off this reminder.  I love irony but not that much!

 

This little patch of dirt will be gone at some point in time.  Maybe after I’m gone and buried.  But until then, this stays as a precious work of love and art.