When my kids were younger I supplemented our family income hand-painting furniture and wall murals. One of my favorite projects was a fairy bedroom for a little girl my kids knew from school.
Between her imagination, her mom’s and my own the room was filled with flights of fancy. My favorite scene included a mushroom set for a fairy picnic. I loved the berries set atop a platter of a green leaf.
But there is no one here to enjoy the picnic any more. The little girl has grown and is off at college dreaming new dreams that no longer include fairies. Her mom is reluctantly agreeing to repaint the room. The two of us stand in the room together as she laments covering up my hard work. I, too, wince at the thought of all those hours of my life and effort painted over, erased.
In the end we are mothers. We both know it isn’t the painting that is causing us mutual pain here. As the fairies disappear they take with them the childhoods of our children. Years that brought us incredible joy; years that we can never get back. Time does not hold still. Children grow, dreams change.
Standing in the middle of the room, we give voice to our loss. We walk to the door and she reaches to turn out the light, but not before I turn and steal one more look. The light dims and I whisper, “Good night, fairies.”
I am sharing this at Memories Captured and Bigger Picture Moments.
I’m preparing to decorate the bedroom my children will share when this baby comes. The decorations are not hung, the walls not yet painted and I am already dreading the future day when we will paint their room again and what that fresh coat will symbolize. This was so very deep.
In one month my youngest turns 18 so these thoughts are lingering in my mind these days. Too fast that is all I can say!
Oh, May. You’re making me teary over here! That’s such a beautiful mural and it’s so sad to paint it over. And this is so beautifully, achingly written. It reminds me of the scene in “Playing By Heart” where the mother reads “Goodnight, Moon” to her son: that juxtaposition of innocence and loss…it’s heartbreaking. You’ve conveyed that so well here. I want to keep this post.
Thanks, Jade. This is really just a small vignette at the end of a window seat. I put it there for her to dream about as she curled up in the sunshine. The whole room is filled with fun surprises like this….for at least a little while longer.
Just beautifully written. Sigh, I dread that moment even though I know my kids growing up will bring other wonderful things as well. Still sometimes i wish they could stay little forever..
Now that mine are grown I love who they’ve become and have felt privileged to witness it all. But-oh, how I miss those days when they were small!
I have tears welling in my eyes … I’m not there yet, but I feel your heart here, the heavy, the stretching as it swells to accommodate the newness. I feel it.
I wouldn’t give up where we are, but it does still tug at my heart to remember what is gone except for memory.