I’ve been a daughter, a lovesick teen, an A student, a homesick college kid returning home, a girlfriend, a just-diagnosed diabetic, a wife, a new mom, a mom of two, a heartsick daughter, a grieving daughter, a healing daughter – all looking out this window.
Although I haven’t lived at home for 13 years, this is still ‘my room’ (the ceiling still has clouds painted on it – a delightful hangover from my Amelie phase in which I painted the room green and got maroon blinds to mimic the colour scheme of the movie… Not a great colour combo, I have to admit!)
It’s also the room my mom died in, where she spent her last week, surrounded by flowers and fairy lights. I remember looking out the window – cluttered with flowers and tissues and medical bits and bobs – and wondering how the view could stay the same but the world could look so different.
This week my dad had surgery and it went well! And he is fine! And I was able to go back to the hospital without fear or dread, and that feels nothing short of miraculous.
I know that buildings aren’t supposed to matter and it’s all about the memories you made in those buildings. But there is something about returning to the same view, this deeply familiar view that I have woken up to for 32 years, that acts as a touchstone. I’ve found that very healing, this time around… I know it won’t be here for much longer so I’m soaking it up.
Here’s to taking a breath and realizing how far we’ve come! To pausing and reflecting and giving thanks.