Messages from the World’s Greatest Cleaner

 
The Spring Cleaner of All Spring Cleaners has been gone for a while, but she must be cleaning in Heaven, too, ‘cause I think I still hear her telling me to move my feet or she’ll suck me right up into the vacuum.
Swear I smell Mr. Clean, Comet, and Lysol. 
And I half expect to come home to find my furniture has been moved around into an interesting new pattern.
It’s Spring Cleaning Season, 2017. My mom, if she was still with us and healthy, would be all over it. No matter that she’d be going on 94. 
There was no stopping her once she got rolling back in the day at our ancestral home.
She’d be scrubbing floors with our old green pail full of hot water mixed with Mr. Clean, and you’d better not walk here ‘til it’s dry, Mister Man.
“Or know the reason why.”
Nature called as my big brother came home from school back in the day. You had to cross her wet floors to reach the bathroom.
No dice. Go in the backyard. And, of course, he did.
We finally got a color TV when I was about 11. It was great fun watching the Super Bowl, the World Series, etc. on that cool new screen.
Pretty tough to see, though, when Mom is dusting the coffee table, blocking your view. Maybe on purpose.
And don’t you dare complain, young man. Do you want to go to your room?
No, Mom.
Good. Move. I need some room here.
Life with Mama.
She scrubbed and dusted and sprayed and vacuumed, and hung our wet duds up to dry on the clothesline in the backyard of the home she and Dad loved so much. 
They enjoyed traveling, but especially enjoyed coming home. She liked to sit and relax on our front steps, maybe walk around the block or take a bike ride with Dad, down to the park in the dusk on nice summer evenings.
She would want me to get rolling with my own Spring Cleaning routine. The muse hits occasionally and I get on a roll, but don’t usually have her oomph. 
It looks like a Herculean task. Clean the WHOLE HOUSE? Really?
I despair.
But now I can rest for another year, ‘cause National Spring Cleaning Week (springcleaningweek.com) was March 6-12.
HAH! Done!
Hold on. Here comes that darn Voice From Beyond. Again.
“I’ll ‘rest-for-another-year’ you right over the head, Mister Man!”
OK, Mom.
Got the Scrubbing Bubbles. Got the Lysol. Got a bunch of sponges. Opening the windows. It smells better already.
But what about you? All I can think about is you, and Mother’s Day, and your birthday coming up!
“Ach du lieber! I’ll ‘Mother’s Day’ you right over the head!”
Actually, she’s probably repeating the great advice she offered several years ago when we took one last trip out to her beloved Black Hills and we got to talking about deep family stuff, even as I drove 75 mph and she rode the passenger side brake, as usual.
“Just do your best.”
Will do. Thanks, Mom, for everything.
I love you.
And SLOW DOWN, for gosh sakes!