Last night I slept in my daughter’s room.

by | May 18, 2018 | All, Blog, Kids!, Life Lessons, Stories | 0 comments

Author’s note: I wrote this when sitting in Amelia’s room on Wednesday night.

I am sitting in Amelia’s room. The house is quiet. Only one roommate is home. I came to Rochester for my six-month check with my oncologist. That stress is offset by the bonus of visiting with my daughter. She is a student in Rochester and it is summer break. I love this time alone with her. We had a great dinner, of course went to Target and stayed up talking before bed.

If you recall last year at this time I spent two days cleaning their apartment. (click here to read last year’s post) This year, however, she cleaned her bathroom, changed her sheets and gave me her bed. (She slept downstairs in Pete’s room.)

Now I am lying on her bed and look around and I get a glimpse into the woman she is becoming. Her room is lit with strings of mini lights and a Christmas tree, yes, a Christmas tree is lit in the corner. It is peaceful and calming. She has the Australian fireman calendar I gave her hanging behind her desk. Textbooks are strewn reflective of the remains of a successful semester. Mixed in are pictures from high school, some school spirit items like hockey gear, stuffed animals and random cups & mugs from various theme nights on campus. There is also a lava lamp, a Yankee Candle and various snacks.

She has a fridge stocked with water, seltzer and perhaps I spied an adult beverage or two. Like her mother, she keeps her chocolate in the fridge.

She lives in the city, so I hear the sounds of city living reminding me of my time on the upper east side in Manhattan. The beeping of locking car doors, people talking as they walk down the street, a city bus stopping and the airport traffic as it appears that we dead on in the flight pattern. It made me smile and miss my old roommate Patty. I slept like a baby in Manhattan. The city sounds were like a lullaby of white noise compared to the crickets, tree frogs and night sounds of upstate. Perhaps she will feel the same when she visits home.

Her house is quite old and quaint. The stain glass windows that face the front are beautiful and the creaky stairs make me wonder about the residents of long ago. Do these creeks exist because families of children ran up and down them? Speaking of sounds, I hear a mouse in the walls. Perhaps there is one or maybe a small family. They scamper back and forth over my head and I know that sound will continue all night. (PS it did!)

I have read a few chapters of my book and now I am ready for bed. I tip toe among the creaky floorboards and steal a few m&ms.  I whisper goodnight to the little mice and turn off the lights.  The Christmas tree stayed on.

I am proud of you Amelia. I see in this room the ever-present little girl struggling to remain as the adult begins to take the lead. Keep your feet in both lives for as long as you can. Ultimately the woman will take over and the little girl will lie dormant until you start a family and she comes back out as a mother. I hope one day you have the chance to sit in your child’s college room and wonder where the time went and realize how blessed you are to have spent the time with your child.

I know I am.

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About Me

KarenHello and welcome.
I am often asked, “What is Pasta on the Floor?”
Pasta on the Floor is different for everyone. It is a recipe that tells a story and inspires them to try something new. For others, stories of family, joy, loss, and hope engage with them. This brings me a great deal of happiness. I do not take myself too seriously, so be forewarned the subject matter is open and truthful. In many ways, Pasta is a tale of life, and I think you will find familiarity and commonality as you scroll through these pages.

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