I never know what I will find when I clean

Each morning when I return from dropping the girls off at school I spend the next few minutes cleaning up after my youngest. Darcy leaves a trail everywhere she goes. She cannot leave a room looking the same way it looked before she entered. Each morning her pajamas are on the floor of the bathroom and the counter is cluttered with the remains of things she has used.

This morning she put on a band-aid, and despite the trash can a foot from the sink, she left the wrappings right here next to a book she was reading and a headband she probably meant to put in her hair but got sidetracked with the band-aid.

This is the area where she puts her backpack each day she comes home from school. This photo is what she left behind this morning when she went off to school. Obviously she doesn't need these items, but seriously, she can't put these things away at her own desk?

This is our puzzle table, but Darcy has managed to use it to hold her crafting items, a tissue box, and the vocabulary book I made her remove from the van last night.

Yesterday in preparation for our new arrival (more tomorrow on that) I decided to tackle cleaning Darcy's bedroom. I do this about once a month and both girls know that when I come into their rooms to do my cleaning anything goes. This means that anything could get chucked in the garbage bag. Want to keep me out of your room? Keep it clean.

I came into her room armed with a garbage bag, a duster, and a vacuum cleaner. She had not made her bed so I just stripped it to the mattress and threw it all in the laundry. I pulled her bed out from the wall and began pulling everything out from under it. I filled two garbage bags with crap that was under her bed, in her drawers and on the top of her dresser. I reorganized her closet and drawers. I dusted and vacuumed and put away all the things that belonged in other rooms of our house.

When I was finished I remade her bed and began to push it back into place. Moving from side to side so that I wouldn't break anything I heaved and pushed. As I did I noticed something white that I had missed peeking out of one end of the bed. I leaned over and pulled it out. It was a white eraser board and this is what was on it:

It says, I (heart) u Grandpa Russ! I never knew you but I did in my mind! I Love you!!! You r my best friend in my mind and that's all I need. I (heart) u Grandpa!

Grandpa Russ is my father who died before Darcy was born. I tell her that she reminds me of him quite often and perhaps that is why she thinks of him. She has always asked questions about him and sometimes writes these little gems. If she watches a television show about someone without a father, she will tell me she has been thinking about him. Little did I know that she communicates with him too.

I sat on the end of her bed and cried a little thinking about how sad it is that neither one of them will ever know each other. He would have thought her a character and would have related to her so well. She would have loved his humor and his big bear hugs, and she wouldn't have hesitated to tell him smoking cigars was yucky.

I put the board, message intact, back under her bed, pushed the bed against the wall, and turned out the lights out on her clean room all while silently thanking my lucky stars my daughter is a clutterer because otherwise I might never have discovered that whiteboard.