A Pink Comforter; Reflections From The Kitchen Sink
I bought a comforter the other day. It is pink. A bit frilly. It coordinates well with the pale pink paint that now adorns my bedroom walls. I’m struggling to get the bedding out of the bag though. My husband wouldn’t have liked it. Well, not for our room. Nothing I have bought for the room makeover would have been a consideration five years ago. I wanted something new. I needed a lighter ambiance. It was time…or so I thought. Now the waves of guilt have me questioning my purchases and wondering if I will be heading back to TJMaxx and Hobby Lobby with my purchases. This is just another layer of guilt in this widowed world I live in. It is a crazy thing to try and balance, and sometimes, I feel the scales shift the tilt very quickly some days. There’s no Lady Justice in this walk even though I do feel the journey is often a blindfolded one.
Pleased with my purchases, I rearranged my furniture into one of the two placements that work with the window, door, and wall limitations. I cleaned the floors as I went and rearranged a few other odds and ends. I got my son to help carry my retail finds into my room, and he stacked them as instructed by the window. Ironically, that spot was right next to a photo of Michael. When I got ready to play with some placement of some wall decor, I looked at his pic and decided to wait a bit. It’s my room, I told myself, but he wouldn’t be into the foo-foo of my selections, my mind quickly retorted. Lady Justice even shook her head with my internal debate.
You see, even when you don’t have anyone you answer to, after almost twenty years together, you run through the same considerations you did when your late spouses were alive. Well, at least I do. I still haven’t made many what I would call “Melinda choices.” As overwhelmed as I sometimes get with some decisions I have to make and the Rubik’s Cube thinking I put into every choice, I am okay with that effort, too. When you’re totally committed to a relationship, that kind of thinking seems totally normal. It is a reminder of all the years of two-person decision making. It is a matter of pride and routine. Some due diligence, I guess, too, as I try to maintain the balance as best I can.
The last comforter I bought a few years ago was a color scheme Michael would’ve liked. It was a funky, Elvis kind of pattern He would’ve tolerated as well. That made the change doable. This time, I may need a couple more days and a nudge or two, even someone to pull the blindfold down to let me see the change is okay. It will happen though. It really is time. I won’t promise there won’t be some tears during the process, but I’m praying the change will be another step forward.
One more cup of coffee…then maybe the rest of the bedroom makeover can begin…
Until next time…
