Tuesday, April 12

4:00 pm
Upstairs

Sitting here rocking, looking out the big picture window, watching the rain come down.  It's peaceful.  A little melancholy.  A lot of memories in this room.

This big antique chair, where I sat and rocked my Boys back to sleep in the middle of the night.  When I close my eyes I can almost smell the baby powder.  Nothing in the world smells as wonderful as a baby.  As your child, all fresh and new and innocent and pure.

The room still looks the same; still decorated in soft colors, blue and brown and maroon.  It doesn't really look like a nursery, but Dorothea didn't want it to.  She just wanted it to be peaceful.  It is.

She used to love to come in here and sit in this chair with Jakey or Romey and look out the window at the river, look for birds or animals or sometimes even dolphins.  She read to them here.  I sang to them here.

This room's been empty a long time.  We never converted it for another use, don't really use it for anything now. Dorothea and I split when we were thinking about turning this into Romeo's Big Boy Room.  She got her own place; he got two Big Boy Rooms -- one at Dad's and one at Mom's.

That's kind of sad.

And I guess neither of us wanted to come back in here for awhile.

I went to the studio this morning; Cate was working in the upstairs office when I left.  When I came home for lunch she wasn't in there.  I called out "Marco" and her "Polo" led me in here.  She was sitting right here in this rocking chair, cuddled up in a throw, looking out the window.  Thinking.

She didn't look sad or worried or wrapped up in herself like she does when something's bothering her.  Just quiet.  I asked her what she was thinking about, and she said "us."  How we found each other, how we ended up here, where our lives are going.

Wow, all that from a rainy day?

I sat down on the floor beside her chair and she slipped out of the chair, onto the floor with me.  She cuddled into my arms and kissed me and put her head on my shoulder.  Then she just sighed and was quiet again.

I asked her if she was thinking about putting this nursery back into use and she kinda shrugged.  That worried me a little.  I didn't say anything, just gave her a little squeeze, and eventually she revealed what was on her mind.

She said as beautiful as this house is, sometimes it makes her sad.  Because she knows we designed it and had it custom-built, that it's Dorothea's dream house.  Everywhere she looks she sees D, in the details and the colors and the little extras.  Evidence of happier days, ghosts of dreams long gone.

Especially in this room.

Cate's not sure she wants to change anything in here.  She admitted she feels a little strange in this room, like she's somehow trespassing on sacred memories.  I assured her that's not the case, it's just a room, with walls and windows and doors and a ceiling and a floor.  And we'll make our own memories here, with our baby.  Or babies.

But as I sit here now I realize she's right.  This is a special place.  I'm not sure I want to let it go.

It's a big house.  Lots of rooms that would make a wonderful nursery.  Especially for a new Baby Girl.

Maybe this one just needs to stay the way it is.