Since the big kids both moved out, I haven’t had inspiration to do anything with their rooms. Kids are even different in the way they leave the nest, one seemingly caring and cognizant of only the shirt he wears on his back. The other had an established habit of regularly and seasonally sorting through her belongings. But even with that things were left behind, including a bunk bed I no longer wanted that at one point was given to us.

So my grandmother’s guest bed is being moved up the stairs. After filling in the countries of South and East Asia I had help with moving and unbolting the bed. When I have the inspiration it’s like it needs to be done now. Dad was visiting shut-ins and doing chapel at the high school. Before returning home he stopped and filled up their van. Every day I think about how our lives have continued to change.

I can’t be stagnant as it happens. I too have to change with them. I can see the role that patience plays in letting time unfold slowly. I see my house slowly coming together in ways I couldn’t have arranged things before. I am hesitant to buy a bedspread but eager to find frames for the pictures of younger children at home. Maybe I still could do it, the scrapbooks of printed photos to live in the guestroom when any of them visit here.