Like dollhouse rooms left abandoned

July 1st, 2013 § 9 comments

IMG_6186Like dollhouse rooms left abandoned,
The rooms stay tidy:
Beds made tight,
Pillows square,
Hampers empty.

It’s been one week since the children left for camp.
Littlest Tristan was due back yesterday but a few days ago he said he was having so much fun he wanted to stay another week.

I realized this week that after being sick for the previous two that I needed this time to catch up, to rest, to regroup.

I miss them but am so glad they are having fun doing what they love.

I pack up care packages,
write letters,
wake in the middle of the night and mentally picture our children sleeping in cabin beds.

Our dog Lucy follows me, sleeps in my room now, not Paige’s.
She doesn’t want to be alone and stays within feet of me every moment.

I tell her it’s okay:
The kids will come back.
The rooms will get messy again.
There will be crumbs dropped at the dinner table and car rides galore.

Paige and Colin and Tristan will come back tired and dirty and happy.
They will come back.
They will.

That is the key.

I think of absence like a hole:
How different it is when it’s temporary and filled with happiness,
Rather than when that hole is a pit of grief. Of ache. Of loss.
The way it will someday be for them.

Tagged ,

§ 9 Responses to Like dollhouse rooms left abandoned"

  • Lisa Boone says:

    Yes, that last part is true, but you are filling that hole with such sweet, tender memories for them to hold onto. I hate to admit it, but following your journey, and being involved the the cancer journey of others keeps me hyper aware. My journey could have taken a much different turn. Or could again at any moment. I must be the mother, wife, sister, aunt, friend, and woman that adds joy to my loved ones days. We truly never know what tomorrow hold (I am sending comfort to the 19 firefighters families this morning), and today, TODAY is what we have. Thank you for the reminder, and the gift of your honesty, your thoughts, your feelings, and your life. You do make a difference in mine.

  • Beth Gainer says:

    Beautifully poignant and real. I am happy that your kids are having a good time and that you are taking the time to take care of yourself.

  • Mary says:

    Beautiful poem, Lisa. Reminds me to LIVE for today and not be too worried about the future. It will come soon enough!

    Be Well, every day and all day long, my friend.

  • We are glad you two have Luci to keep you company! Sending love to you and C.
    Pops & Patty

  • Tracey baigent says:

    Hello Lisa I’ve just found your blog, you are an amazing mum your writing is lovely how you put your emotions from keyboard to us like we are standing in room looking through your eyes from one mother to another I’d love to reach over and give you a hug thank you for sharing

    • Kim C says:

      I love your comment too, Tracey. I would love to give you a big hug Lisa…. or how about a big group hug with everyone who is connected by your blog. Wouldn’t that be something :)

  • Amy B. says:

    ^ Just wanted to say that loved Tracey’s comment. It was like poetry and so true.

  • Angela says:

    I have been lurking for a while. Your words pierce deep. Your heart seems so true. Thank you for writing.

  • Lorie says:

    I love the poem too Lisa! It speaks of happiness and truth in many ways. You are filling that hole of wonderful memories for them to treasure for the rest of their lives. I’m also glad that Lucy was there too to keep you company. She’s a corgi, isn’t she? We just got a corgi a month ago, he’s name is Conan and he’s the cutest dog! Like Lucy, he also has that constant happy smile on his face. May Lucy brighten your day everyday, together with your loving family.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

What's this?

You are currently reading Like dollhouse rooms left abandoned at Lisa Bonchek Adams.

meta