Friday, August 13, 2010
An Empty Room
(For the sake of the story, imagine Father not being in the bed and that the bed is made up.)
One sad story my mom told me about Abby happened in the first 6 months or so after I moved out. After I moved, my mom would keep the door to my old room shut. She may have done this to save energy, or she could have done it to help keep the room clean by keeping the stray dust filtering in to a minimum. My mom didn’t shut the door tightly so with Abby’s battering ram for a head, my baby girl was able to burst through the door. Abby did this a few times in the first year I was gone. I think she did it soon after I left after a visit to Raleigh. My mom caught her in the act one time and watched her walk around the room. This was Abby’s old room after all. Abby walked around the bed, sniffed around and after a couple of minutes, left the room and returned to the den and joined the rest of the family.
I’ve always wondered what went through her mind. Obviously she missed me, but was going in that room a sentimental journey for her so she could reminisce about someone not in her life? Did she think for a fleeting moment that I may have possibly been in that room and took an outside shot that she would see me? It broke my heart that my baby girl missed me so much, but when she got used to the fact that I would come home every month, she settled in to a new routine and seemed to snap out of her funk.