On Black Friday, a children's furniture website held a clearance sale on children's bedroom equipment. For just under $800 we got a crib, mattress, mattress pad, sheets, dresser and sliding rocking chair. I've wanted a rocking chair for months but they were more expensive so it was a win-win. When I need to gather myself in a room that is changing as much as I am, I go to the chair. It is a symbol of the rhythm of life and the new experiences that await you.
The playroom sofa
My family has movie nights on Fridays or Saturdays. We grab several litters, put out the indigo blue sofa/bed in the kids' area and eat popcorn and pizza. Sometimes I think my daughter enjoys it the most – she keeps asking if we're watching a movie and eating popcorn, even though I've made it clear we don't do that on school nights. I don't know if it's possible that she enjoys it more than it does me.
The sofa came from IKEA. It has stains from hair gel because my son smeared it on the interior one busy morning. There are also toys, felt and hairpins in every crack. We loosen and braid hair and relieve tears. It's part jungle gym, part bed. The day after a movie night, it's covered in popcorn kernels and tiny bits of butter that my 3-year-old tries to eat.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
China from my grandmother
My grandmother was living with us at the time of the fire. She had stored some of her belongings near her former home in Shreveport, including her mother's china and some of her own. She is a meticulous collector of things and memories. She takes pride in keeping the same clothes for decades. More than once she talked about giving me some china, as well as the cupboard in which the pieces were kept. I didn't make the trip to get it. I'm glad that didn't work out because it wasn't lost in the fire.
Since then, I have inherited several pieces of the gold-decorated tableware. The plates are on our dining room table, waiting to tell me about everything they've seen. I can't imagine I'll devour them, but I'm dying to know what stories they tell. What memories do you have of me? I lived with my grandparents on and off throughout high school and some of my adult years. I know they saw me typing my first play, a school assignment, until the sun slowly rose into the sky on the play's due date. Maybe they were paying attention as I proudly carried my first little girl into the living room. They are definitely watching me now as I delve into life and bring with me the love of family, living and dead.