This is one of my most popular posts, written 12 years ago. I’m posting it again because it fits the holiday season, and might impact your perspective, too. Here it is, followed by a recent update:
The best part of vacuuming is making lines. No matter what direction they go, vacuum lines shout that the carpet is clean. I’ve often thought that if I would just drag a stick across the rug in a pattern, people would think it was freshly vacuumed.
Over the years I’ve tried different patterns to make sure the lines are symmetrical or creative or expressive. I almost feel like it’s half-science, half-art. You want people to walk in and see the lines . . . so they know you’ve cleaned for them.
But it doesn’t last long.
After a day or so, the lines are gone, replaced with footprints. Usually, when I see the footprints, I think, “Oh, now I have to vacuum again.” It’s like something that needs to be fixed.
If the carpet has lines, it feels like the whole house is in order.
But one morning, a couple of years ago, it was different.
It was a Sunday morning. As I walked out of the bedroom and looked into the living room, there were no lines. There were footprints — hundreds of them. It was the exact opposite of the perfection I strive for.
But it made me smile.
They were little footprints, not big ones. They came from the day before when our granddaughters, Averie and Elena (age 6 and 3 at the time), had spent hours with me in that room. The foam blocks had become castles as Averie told non-stop stories of dragons and princesses and kings and moats. The wooden train cars kept Elena occupied as she scooted animals and trees and signs across the tracks. We talked and laughed and played until dinner. Mostly, we loved.
The room had been filled with shrieks of delight with wrestling and pillow fights and “tickle bugs.” It was a room of giggles and joys and memories being born.
It’s what that room was for.
The next morning, there were no lines. But instead of the usual frustration, there was a deep satisfaction with what had happed in that room. The footprints were a joyful reminder of what the room was really for.
Now, I still make lines when I vacuum. But when little people are coming, vacuuming isn’t to get rid of the footprints.
It’s to prepare for them.
That’s one of my favorite posts, too. I still do the vacuuming at our house, and I think of those memories often. Averie was 6 back then, and now she’s 20. Elena was 3, and now she’s 17. Marco, who didn’t exist then, is 14 now. The foam blocks and wooden train still get plenty of use by Jacob, Kezia and Luna (since they’re aged 6 and below). And as you can imagine, their age doesn’t matter. There are still plenty of footprints when they’ve been here.
The best part is that they’re still providing new memories and bringing sheer joy to our house whenever they’re visiting. A couple of weeks ago, we had our annual “grandkids weekend” where they all come.
We all go out to pick a Christmas tree – just for them (separate from our own). They have their own decorations, and load them up on the tree. When Marco was a toddler, he got the idea of decorating – but not of spreading them out. So he put all of the heavier ornaments in one spot . . and the tree fell over.
They decorate my office and my wife’s office. Charlie Brown’s head is all that’s left from a broken Peanuts ornament, so it gets hung on my ceiling fan (which raise interesting comments on business-oriented Zoom calls). There are noisy games and puzzles and crafts and baking and movies and love and messes and new memories.
And footprints.
I vacuumed the next day, mostly to get all the crumbs up. But those footprints will be back again on Wednesday – Christmas Day.
Today, I’ll vacuum to get ready for them.
Tomorrow, those lines will disappear as soon as everybody arrives, and there will be footprints everywhere.
And it’ll be amazing.
The holidays aren’t the best times for a lot of people for a number of reasons, and that might include you. Whether you celebrate or cringe, make some memories. Pay attention to the moments, because they’re over as quickly as they happen.
Look for gratefulness, even in the toughest situations. It’s always there, even if it’s not in plain view.
For me, I’m grateful that you’re part of our tribe and you’ve joined the conversation. You’re not here to impress anybody, and neither am I. We just get to share the human moments that happen when we’re connected.
Whether you celebrate Christmas or a different holiday – or nothing at all . . . I hope you’re surprised by joy tomorrow. Who knows . . . maybe somebody will give you a vacuum as a present . . .
See you next year!
Mike
