My Daughter's Room

Spending so much time in Daughter #2’s room the past few days brought back a lot of memories. While going through boxes of her stuff, rearranging furniture, and even exposing fabric on a padded accent wall that has been covered up for years I have reflected on the childhood my daughter spent in that room. So many good times and a few not so good ones thrown in to remind us we are human.

While putting the bed back in the same place it was when she was three years old I remembered the night I stayed up with her trying to sponge away her high fever. Early the next morning we rushed her to the pediatrician’s office where she had a spinal tap and we ended up in I.C.U. for nine days with spinal meningitis, not knowing if she would live and then anticipating she would be deaf or blind or brain damaged (and welcoming that option over losing her). That story had a wonderful ending – she came away from her near death experience unscathed.

Putting some of my stuff in her now clean closet I thought about all of the toys she had as a child that were stashed in boxes, bins and baskets in that closet. I remembered one particular day when her cousins (who were not allowed to have lots of stuff strewn about their rooms) were visiting. When it was time for them to leave, their daddy and I went in the room to get them and we couldn’t find them. The room was absolutely trashed. Every single toy, game, stuffed animal and doll she owned was spread out all over her room. As we stood there dumbfounded by the mess we heard a giggle that soon erupted into full blown laughter from three little kids. My daughter and her two cousins were indeed in the room – they were just hidden by all of the toys. It was reminiscent of the scene in E.T. where the kids hid E.T. in the closet among all of the toys.

As I was wrestling heavy boxes around her room I was reminded of a time, when she was probably about 5 years old, and she claimed the very large box our new hot water heater came in. She put it next to her bed, put pillows and blankets in it and slept there for several months. When a friend asked her why, she said she wanted to know what homeless people felt like. She has always been compassionate and empathetic. Not much has changed there.

She will kill me for repeating this last memory. While putting the new bedding on the bed I saw the slightly lighter stain on the mattress. I remembered how that stain got there. Suffice it to say it was during high school, after a party that involved drinking beer, and not making it to the bathroom quickly enough. I will fess up that I had a similar experience during my high school days – the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

There are so many wonderful memories and so many happy times associated with that room. My daughter spent the first twenty years of her life there. Now I am taking it over, but her mark is permanently there. As much as I have tried to think of it as my office/guest room, I can’t. It will always be Daughter #2’s room. I hope I can create twenty more years of wonderful memories in there.