Cleaning, Memories, and the Scent of Childhood

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Today's I wants to share a special childhood memories.
Many years ago, when our home was just a simple three-room old house, there was one special day every year that brought a unique kind of energy into the family — the big cleaning day. My grandmother would turn the whole house upside down, not just to sweep the floor, but to make every single corner shine.
This was never ordinary cleaning. The window glass would be scrubbed until it looked like a mirror, the cobwebs in the ceiling corners removed, the dust behind cupboards cleared, and even the furniture that had not been moved for an entire year would finally be shifted.
Honestly, that was my favorite part. Whenever a cupboard was moved, little “treasures” would appear underneath — a coin, a lost toy, or a small rubber ball. Those tiny discoveries made the whole process exciting for me as a child.
The cleaning wasn’t only outside; inside the cupboards everything was taken out, reorganized, and washed if needed. Clothes, dishes, and unused items all got attention. Nothing was ignored.
When I was young, I often wondered why this deep cleaning had to happen on that exact day. Why not a day earlier or later? Whenever I asked my grandmother, she would smile and say that starting the season with a clean house brings good fortune and peace for the coming year. Maybe there wasn’t strict logic behind her words, but there was warmth and belief — and that belief stayed with us.
Time passed, houses changed, but the habit remained. We moved from the old home to a newer one, and later into a two-story house, yet that annual cleaning tradition never disappeared. My grandmother is no longer with us, but her influence still lives quietly in my routines.
Even today I clean the house on that special day, although I admit the enthusiasm is not the same as before. In the past, I would polish the windows until they sparkled. Now I sometimes find excuses and tell myself that “good enough” is fine.
Recently, I tried a modern shortcut — using a powerful air blower. I blew dust out from under the sofa, the bed, and behind the TV cabinet, then mopped everything afterward. It was fast and efficient, and surprisingly, a few old toys rolled out, bringing back flashes of childhood memories.
My family, however, was not impressed. My wife insisted that I was creating more mess than cleaning. I tried to explain that in the end the dust was removed anyway, but arguments rarely lead anywhere. Silence felt wiser.
Still, when the house finally looks neat and fresh, a quiet satisfaction fills my heart. Cleaning, I realized, is not only about removing dirt; it is also about uncovering memories. Each year, that simple act brings back a gentle fragrance of childhood — a reminder of warmth, family, and the little joys hidden in forgotten corners.

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