When Life Won't Budge, Your Furniture Will

My mother used to always advise not to decorate a new home until after six months of living in it.  Get the feel of it, she’d suggest.  Just be patient.  Wait for an idea to come to you.

But we all know what happens when you move into a home:  quicker than we can unwrap our margarita glasses we’ve filled the rooms up, we’ve run the credit cards up, and we’ve woken up --  eight months later -- to curtains we’re just not that crazy about.  Ah well.

I’ve been in my home just about five years now and I love it.  I’ve loved it from the minute I walked through the door because it felt like home from the start.  That my furniture fit perfectly and matched the wall colors precisely was just serendipity.

Still….no house is absolutely perfect now, is it?

The one thing that’s made me increasingly irritated over the years has been the dining room.  It’s lovely no doubt.  Beautiful actually.  And the terrific dining room set we received from That Television Show  (oh for the love of God, please not again…)  looks spectacular in it.  But we’re NEVER in it.  Ever.  It’s an unused room for the most part and this past Thanksgiving was the ultimate in head-shaking annoyance:  I had a party of twelve sitting in the open-floor-plan of the kitchen/living area because it was roomier and more casual.

I know, right?  If you’re not even going to use a dining room for Thanksgiving, what’s the point?

So it’s been bugging me.

I also have a FROG (that’s Family Room Over the Garage -- and don’t feel bad – I had no idea there was a name for it, either).  My FROG has become another area of irritation for me because it has inexplicably turned into Xbox command central.  I see the room occasionally when I pass through to do laundry or tell a teenage girl and beau to turn a lamp on….but due to the high level of testosterone under the roof (manning controllers and headsets) I have become unwittingly estranged from my beloved cable box in this FROG.

And that’s been bugging me, too.  (Can we stop for a moment to imagine just how many more television shows I might be mocking with unlimited access to OnDemand?)

Anywho…

Well, well, well…..

While I was away for a few days visiting my mom my husband and kids got busy. Really busy.   I returned to find my dining room – poof! -- gone.  Just as I had dreamily pillow-talked about over the past five years. 

In it was my favorite furniture from elsewhere in the house AND my cable box…

(oh, there was also a new television in there, too, but James’ obsession with new gadgets – combined with the Armageddon that likely ensued when it was suggested to perhaps hook the Xbox to an old dusty (gasp!) picture tube TV definitely had something to do with this)…

…and it is perfect.

My life of late has been at a standstill –- as if a perpetual pause button has been pressed.  A lot of future plans up in the air, a lot of I don’t knows, a lot of Sure that sounds like fun, but I can’t commit right nows.  I am acutely aware that this sudden room makeover teems with unspoken messages.

It silently screams, This Is To Make You Happy.  Because as I navigate a stormy sea of uncertainty with my mom’s illness, my family has stood by strongly – but helplessly.  I know how hard it’s been for them all to walk around on eggshells with a part-time, emotionally fragile mom.

It also quietly reminds, Enjoy Today Before Tomorrow.  Because really, isn’t five years a bit long to wait for something -- anything for that matter?

I have a very thoughtful family, I know.  And I feel blessed.

I was nestled in my new room yesterday when my youngest came in and asked me to drive him to baseball practice.  A quick check of the time indicated that by the time I got him to the field he would make the final fifteen minutes of it before we had to turn around and head back home.  But little don’t boys don’t grasp that rationale of time.  He was tying his sneakers.

I looked at him and said ruefully, “But it’s Oprah’s second to last show….”

He looked at the screen and started watching for a few moments.  He shrugged.

“Okay.  Never mind.”

He darted outside to catch up with his brother.

See?  I told you my family was thoughtful.

And brilliant:  Even the littlest minds know the importance of a cable box.  And the almighty Oprah.

--Tina Drakakis