Originally Written December 22, 2011:
The Vacuum left Lovely Striations
I remember when we were kids and Mom would be at work and Dad would be taking care of us. On those fun filled nights of hide and go seek and wrestling with our Father he'd often vacuum the living room floor before Mom got home, leaving a pattern in the rich red carpet. He would go over it a few times until the pattern was uniform and he would work his way back out of the room so that at the end was a full room with gorgeous, texturous, red carpet showing the path of the vacuum. It was really impressive to see especially in the night time when he'd turn on the yellowish pot lights in the ceiling giving greater contrast to the carpet and its texture.
He was very proud of this and understandably so, it looked like artwork, Seventies style, given the colour of the carpet, the yellow pot lights in the ceiling, all with the backdrop of the rust coloured drapes that went as high as the ceiling and down to the floor and nearly the full length of the room. Pair that with the orange lamps that lasted well past my puberty and into my Twenties. The thick black obsidian ashtrays at the arm of the rust coloured recliner (that years later I would cut with my very first pocket knife in order to see what was making the ribs of the arms so round), which were supported by golden tripodal stands 3 feet in height, that left impressions in the luxurious carpet. The framed paintings on the walls made of black felt and oil colours, some of which had coloured string wound around tiny nails giving the scenes a 3D quality and of course the floral patterned sofa. It was Seventies styled, because none of the décor had been replaced at this point from its original 1977-78 inception.
The carpet was on display at this point and we - just the two of us at the time - were not allowed into the living room, fret we may make our own impressions upon the carpet. You see our Father wanted his wife to see the great job he did cleaning up the living room (which doubled as our play area) putting away the toys and vacuuming the floor; All this as an offering to our Mother when she returned from her 12 hour shift as a nurse at the hospital, where all three of us were born.
This of course would create a conflict with his two young boys as we were - in all affects - banned from our recreation area. Now Dad, God bless his heart, did this toward the end of the evening, soon before Mom would get home so that we wouldn't be exiled from the beloved living room for very long and then when Mom came home and she had sufficient time to see the spectacle we returned to Canaan.
Because we were exiled it goes without saying that we wanted to get Dad in trouble and as soon as Mom was settled away we gave her the report. Finding this somewhat comical, I remember my Mom saying one time: "Now Isaac that's foolish, you know you didn't keep them out of the living room, afraid they would walk over the carpet". This of course was not met with the same playful intent in which my Mother meant it and would in fact hurt my Father's feelings and he would be insulted. She never realized how much it meant to him to have such a tidy home ready for her when she arrived from her long tiring shift, and how proud he was of the tidy room with the freshly vacuumed carpet purposefully lit from above via the yellow pot lights, which really acted as a spotlight.
I enjoyed looking at the carpet, and I knew exactly what my Father was up to when he did this, I appreciated it in my own little way. In the way a son appreciates what his Father was about when he grows up and realizes he carries the same attributes, some of his mannerisms and many of his traits.
Later in years when it came upon me to vacuum the carpet as part of my chores I found I was doing the same thing as my father did, I would often travel over the same area several times, just so the light hits off it in just the right way and each time I thought of that one particular night.
I hope my children recognise in themselves my attributes before I’m gone and they can express how it makes them feel.
It was perhaps the things left unsaid
