We had to take the stars down.
Stars used to decorate the ceiling of our exercise room, which used to be Kate's bedroom. Repainting the ceiling necessitated this action but it left me feeling a little melancholy. Kate put them up in her room years ago so she could look at stars before she fell asleep. It seems like such a short time ago. Now she's married and gone, having taken her treasured possessions long ago. But this last demolition seemed a little heartbreaking.
I guess that's how it goes. You spend hours, days, years - at the time it seems that the time will go forever - raising two human beings. They become a part of you - joined seamlessly to your heart and soul. A part of you. How ironic that if you've done it well, they somehow separate and leave.
I decide that a little melancholy is ok - as long as I don't stay there too long. After a little while I pull my thoughts to the positives of the new reality: two warm, intelligent, funny adult children who are living full lives that fortunately still include us in a new capacity. That seam? Maybe there's a little scar, but it's ok. I'm blessed as a result of it.
Nose Update:
Saw the doctor today. She reassured me that all was well, commenting that after all, I had several broken bones in my head that will hurt more and take longer to heal than a bone that can be splinted or casted. As contrary as it sounds, this pronouncement made me feel better.
Here's to discovering new stars.
No comments:
Post a Comment