Comfort Zone

This area looks comfy doesn’t it?  This is a seating area in one of our rooms here.  When we were deciding what furniture to buy and place in our rooms, I knew that I wanted something for both Mr. Fae and myself and that it needed to be relaxing.

Taking advantage of the views we can either gaze over the river or up towards the mountains.  I’ve watched winter turn into spring on the river with the ducks and geese arriving.  I’ve watched the birch trees up in the high slopes of the Sierra’s turn yellow from this vantage point.  I can sit with my morning coffee and the newspaper slowly awakening to the day.  I mentally plan my days here.

But whenever I sit here, my first thoughts are of my mom and dad.  Here is where I found myself, alone and stunned after talking to my dad and him saying, “they can’t do anything anymore.  They want to disconnect her.”  I sat at the edge of one of these chairs, not moving, barely breathing.  The wheels in my head were sluggish and could not come to grips with the words and their meanings.  Before I could pull myself up, I had a pretty good cry onto the upholstery.

Afterwards, when the inevitable happened and I lost both my parents within four months, my mornings were spent here lost in thought.  The whys and the how comes were the constants for many months.  But I was always sitting in these chairs.  My husband would find me there before he left for work, silent and learning to live without the physical presence of Mom and of Dad.  You see, with age, I learned that despite the fact that I was more of a parent now to them than they were to me, I still needed to hear their voices telling me about their days.  I still needed to be one of ‘the kids’.  But those days were gone and I learned to make peace with their deaths, sitting here in our chairs.

My daughter and I sat here, her newly pregnant and eating Wheat Thins by the handful staving off morning sickness.  We discussed gender and names and so many other new questions she had.  Would she get stretch marks?  (Depends)  Does labor hurt? (Yes)  And on and on and on.

Mr. Fae and I would occasionally sit and discuss the so many varied subjects husbands and wives do everyday.   We would meander down memory lane about our children or our travels.  We would discuss what would be in our future.  The thoughts and the words coming freely and comfortable between us.

This morning as I placed some folded laundry on the footrest for my husband to put away, I stepped back and looked at my comfy chairs.  “If the walls could speak”  I thought…but it would be these chairs, not the walls.  Their inviting warmth and size beaconing me once again to sit and be comfortable.

Love,

Fae

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About Fae

Although I have other blogs I do for my grandchildren, I felt it wasn't enough to satisfy my inner author. I needed a grownup blog to share things on or rant about. Purely egocentric. Hope you like it.
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