A Stepmom's Spring Cleaning

Some things I found in a late round of seasonal refresh.

Jun 02, 2024

woman holding green textile — Photo by Volha Flaxeco on Unsplash

Spring cleaning is done in spring because as winter recedes and daffodils say hello, it is a perfect time to refresh spaces and renew the spirit.

Windows are opened for sunlight to pour in. Doors are swung open to welcome fresh air. Whether spring cleaning is comprised of deep cleaning or simple decluttering, it is more than a household chore. It is a traditional ritual that is meaningful.

I am late to spring cleaning this year but the same meaningful experience filled my cleaning process. I like rearranging the home, changing bedsheets and air drying home cushions. I like replacing cubbyhole sheets and window panel sheets with clean ones. I like tidying up corners of the home and dusting furnitures. I like opening drawers and closets, rearranging the contents neatly and organizing in newer ways. This one, I especially like because of the things I uncannily find as I rummage through the home.

This year, here are some of my finds.

My eldest son’s toy soldier.

I like rummaging through boxes and drawers to update myself on what I still have, to remind myself of “old stuff.” One of which is my eldest son’s miniature toy soldiers. When he was nine years old, I remember finding these small men scattered all over his closet among his folded shirts, the soldiers seemingly guarding his belongings. I remember opening his bedroom door, finding him giving orders to his small soldiers on the floor. I remember looking at him sleeping, with a plastic soldier on his hand. I remember going to the market to buy him small plastic toy animals and plants to go with his toy soldier collection.

At nineteen, he entered military service but did not finish the journey. The whole time he was in training was both a harrowing and meaningful experience for us both. It was a part of him that he shared only with me because I was the one blessed to be around him at that time.

An old dress I used to wear when I was single.

Finding something I own from my maiden years brings a smile to my day. I touch the old fabric. I try it on. Though it fits, it is an ill-fitting feel. It brings me powerful memories of how I used to be. It usually brings back just the happy memories.

And then more importantly, it reminds me of how things have evolved. Of how things before are no longer apt for what is today.

But it is nice to still have those memories.

The most precious letters.

Mostly, these are letters from my father. I make a renewed promise to always keep these letters safe and accessible. And then, there are the scribbled letters from the kids. “I luv u Mama,” is scrawled in awkward form and colors.

But these writings are as raw as one can get. I hold them in my heart.

A baby photo of my biological child.

I always find it interesting that every time I clean out drawers, I only find baby photos of my own, biological son. I do not have on hand baby pictures of my stepchildren. The baby pictures never made their way into our home. When I hold the photos of my son, I look at him dearly and waves of warm, fuzzy feelings come over me. I remember touching his small, soft hands. I remember being scared for him because it can be nasty out there. I recall the hours of labor pain and the sacred joy of holding him in my arms for the very first time. My immaculate history of being his mother comes to life, reminding me that it is he alone who can give me this kind of feeling.

In this blended family, he should know that.

Spring cleaning is both an accomplishment and nostalgia to me.

I look at the clean cupboards, the newly scrubbed windows and the well-made bed. I sigh at renewed cleanliness and embrace the energy that surrounds the freshness brought about by the chore. It is a triumph of restoring order in the home.

At the same time, it was a journey through time. I have unearthed fragments of the history of my home and the family. I have honored the past, appreciated what is, and made space for what is to come.