The Miracle of Vacuuming ✨
thoughts on aging, enlightenment, & caregiving
This past year, I’ve been helping my family take care of my grandpa. Twice a week I head to his apartment - cook him eggs, clean his apartment, empty the litter box, and spend time.
It was something I initiated last summer as I was floating in a chaotic freelancer schedule (still am, but learning how to swim :)). First of all, I love grandpa - he’s a big sweetheart who’s taken care of me and shaped my life. And second, I knew we could help each other. He needs someone to make sure he eats, and I need(ed) someone outside of myself to care for. Our time together provides me with anchors in my schedule and some tangible, clearly defined tasks that I can excel at.
One of our routines is a weekly vacuuming. The ritual goes something like this: I pull out the vacuum. Grandpa insists that I don’t need to vacuum - honey, it’s just me here! forget the vacuum. I start anyways, reminding him about the omnipresent cat hair. As I vacuum, we both can see the dirt, cat hair, etc. filling up the bin (it’s satisfying clear). Grandpa is surprised by just how much debris we capture each week and quite impressed with vacuum - amazing! that’s an excellent machine.
Each week, we experience The Miracle of Vacuuming.
Initially, I saw this as a funny, though mildly concerning symptom of his dementia. Oh, Grandpa. It’s just a vacuum, this is what it does.
But what’s the more sane reaction? It’s not a competition, one isn’t right or wrong, but Grandpa’s fascination seems like an outcropping of seeing with fresh eyes.
I’m reminded of zen passage that I’ve heard and was recently shared by my friend Samantha:
Over time as we’ve sunk into this vacuum ritual, I have delighted in witnessing Grandpa’s utter presence and fascination with what is happening right in front of us. Some gratitude has welled up inside of me - damn, this is a good vacuum. wow, the cat does have an infinite amount of hair. this is amazing.
I’ve been thinking about elders and how generationally segregated we are in the US. How this is a deep loss for all of us. Each stage of life offers rich perspective and wisdom amidst health and sickness.
For many, our only interaction with seniors may be in a caregiving role. Time with my grandpa is an absolute gift, though I do not mean to sugarcoat caregiving in any way. Grandpa’s wellbeing concerns me - dementia, covid, a common cold. Caregiving requires much of us physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and it’s severely undervalued in our culture. It is not something we are meant to do alone, and yet many individuals and families do. I have deep gratitude that my family is able to compensate me for my time, and I dream of worlds where we are all compensated for our caregiving and domestic labor.
What joys and discoveries are possible as we give care to one another? how do we help each other? can we share our elders? can we share our caregiving energy?
Intergenerational relationships can provide beautiful support of elders in their last chapters on earth, and they can also provide life-giving, energizing support to all of us. I’m inspired by friends in Columbus dancing with seniors and communities forming around the country with nuns and young people. I’m curious and committed to see work like this grow.
May we care for one another always and forever. May we tend to our whole selves.
with love,
emily
p.s. are you a caregiver? I’d love to hear from you about any sweet and/or challenging experiences 💛
p.p.s. are you interested in being in community with elders? there may some opportunities bubbling up that I can keep you informed on 💛