Today, two large packages arrived in the mail.
They were the cupboards I bought to help create more storage space
for in my kitchen, especially since Jane is moving home for the summer
later this month. Stillestead is a wonderful home,
but it is quite small, and storage is limited.
I need to get creative with how I organize things.
I decided to buy two cute cupboards to store the
dishes that have been taking over Jane's bedroom closet.
Gigs, my handyman child, started putting one of them together for
me while I organized and made a huge mess in my kitchen.
Then, when 3:00 came, he had to stop and go to work, leaving
his tools and the materials in a disorganized mess.
Around 9:00, he was back from work and ready to finish the project.
He smelled like a goat, but I was so excited for his help
that I didn't mind.
I told him I wanted to wallpaper the back of the cupboard
for a creative touch, and he literally said to me:
"Mom, I'll do this for you. Go lie down, and I'll
come and get you when it's done."
And so I did.
Around midnight, he walked into my room and told me
that he was glad he only put together one of the cupboards because
they were "a stupid piece of crap."
He was right. They were cheaply crafted and ended up being
way smaller than I was expecting.
I had the worst buyer's remorse ever. EVER!
But, a piece of me felt the urge to keep and adore the cupboard he
spent hours putting together (and wallpapering for me).
When I went to bed that night and before I fell asleep,
In my mind, I saw five-year-old Gigs on the floor in the living room.
I was on the couch- sick, post-accident.
He'd want me to watch him make and create things with Legos and blocks
then he'd proudly show me his creations.
He's been doing this for years.
Then, I got a huge lump in my throat.
I am nearing the end of so many chapters in our family's story-
our family's "dialogues."
It's so bittersweet.
