today, i had to go down to the basement and clean up the dirt which accumulated for more than a decade. it wasn't pleasant. but, admittedly, i got a mild sense of fulfillment doing so. i might have to stay here a couple of days -- hopefully not longer. though the corridors seem clearer now, the dust was only swept into separate mounds of homogenous years.
my folks have been at the job for quite a while; and it's only today i realized that if i continue waiting for the perfect time before i impart myself to others when they need it the most, then that time -- that picture perfect moment that would slap me hard on the face -- may just never arrive. so the brooms were brought down together with fresh rags in a pail.
god's fingerprints were all over the place; their marks visible on each foundation that kept the structure stable and safe. on the other hand, the walls and ceilings were vandalized by a trail of muddy hooves. and my brother, G, kept pointing at them in amazement. G was actually the reason we all had to go down and clean up the neglected mess. after searching for him throughout the world, we found him in the basement one day, sitting on some old boxes, trying to recall how the place had looked like when it had been tidy and organized. that's when my folks started scrubbing the floors as G sat in a corner, sometimes engaging my dad in a theological conversation, often staring at the hooves and the fingerprints, silently attempting to decipher their origins. mom constantly distracted him from his thoughts, urging him to help with the chores. he obeyed on occasion. and when he did, he did so with much vigor and enthusiasm. but he would tire easily. then he'd sit back in his corner beside the boxes.
this morning, when i skipped work and joined the tired troops below, G complained of a headache. he was inhaling too much dust in his corner and he let the cobwebs reside on his shaggy hair. mom and dad were thinking of sending him back upstairs, but G insisted he wanted to stay on. so i asked him to help me clean my corner of the basement instead. we got to talk more than we had ever talked before. and the empty pages of photo albums were filled with memories not exactly suitable for kodak moments, yet genuinely amusing to recall: parental discipline, sibling squabbles and adolescent debates. our childhood fights made us form temporary alliances against one another (there are six of us), before new alliances and vendettas were shuffled and remade; those brief skirmishes constantly changed and shifted the blocs of power among us before our parents carried out a cease-fire or peace treaty. we later concluded, with smiles on our faces, that our past was mostly of kicks, punches and screams, aside from the years we walked around the house like ghosts, oblivious to the other spirits that haunted the place.
unknown to me, my folks decided to send G upstairs anyway. his headache wasn't going away, and all the activity was draining the energy out of him. he needed rest. so when it was explained to him why it was best to go up and come back down when he was feeling better, he calmly agreed. though i sensed the heaviness he felt with that decision.
get well, G, we'll see you back down here soon.tonight, without the comforts of a
complete bedroom, i decided to sleep in the lobby. armed with a small pillow, a short blanket and a bedtime prayer, i seek refuge in the night for much needed rest. tomorrow, it's back to the basement. give it a couple more days and the place will see itself transformed and back to useful. the penthouse can wait. the elevators are accessible anytime.
