So last weekend we finished all (almost all) of our painting. We started with the bathroom, changing the shade of the color we already had, so we went from dark milk chocolate to an even darker-still chocolate brown, accenting with a sort of sea-foam color. Then it was on to the dining room. We took it from very light greenish with a yellow hue, to seriously dark green – then changed out the artwork too, made a huge difference in the look.
Then last weekend it was on to the living room. That one went from a light shade of “adobe” to a much more dramtic shade of the same general color. Then we put the furniture in different places, changed up the placement of some of the artwork – the whole place feels new, fresh and exciting.
Thing is . . . Mom isn’t there to stop by and see it.
She’s been gone for almost 16 months now, and I still keep expecting her to drop by.
In the past, no matter how hard we would try and keep it secret, to surprise her, she ALWAYS seemed to know when we were doing something new to the house, and she’d sneak over before we were ready to show it off and see what we were doing. It was almost a game. Somehow she’d clue in to the fact that we had something planned, and she’d get over to see it while we were still painting, or building, or whatever we were up to.
Mom had amazing taste in decor and really classy ideas in color and furniture placement. it was always so much fun to make a change in the house and have her come and see it.
Every day we were painting, my sister and I couldn’t help but feel like Mom would be pulling up outside any minute to sneak a peek. I know I looked outside every time I heard a car go by, and I caught my sister doing the same thing.
Knowing it would never happen again, felt really weird. And I have a feeling that isn’t ever going to go away.
The Velvet Zebra 