Redecorating

When my husband and I were living in our first house after we got married, I came home one night from improv class as he was holding a table in his hands saying “What would Thom do?” He was referring to Thom Filicia, from Queer Eye for The Straight Guy. Leon was trying to redecorate the family room, guided by his inner-Thom.

Leon has always been more into the decorating aspect than me. I can tell someone what I love and what I don’t like, but putting it all together, that’s not my thing.

The second house Leon and I lived in, the one I left last week, I never knew what to do. Leon did most of the figuring stuff out. Maybe I did more of it than I remember, I just can’t remember shit these days.

The one room I loved in that house was my son’s room.

It has been put together with memory after memory and decorated with handmade artwork by cherished family members. There are needlepoints from both his bubbies, the one he is named after and the one whose house has become his second home.
Large canvases painted by his cousins hang on the wall along with wooden initials his Aunt painted, all done in the days right after he was born.

There is also a picture I drew. When you are a mom and your child starts bringing home art projects you hang them everywhere so of course my son wanted to hang the picture I drew. He’s cute that way.

Every so often my son would ask about one of the pieces of artwork. He liked to know where they came from and I am sure he feels the love that went into making these treasures. Also sometimes he just likes to stall before going to bed.

I assumed one day he would ask about the picture I gave him.

“Mom, when did you make that picture?”

“A couple years ago.”

“Where?”

“Well, you see son, there is this thing called the Intensive Outpatient Program for people with Mood Disorders. It’s kinda like a summer camp, if the majority of your fellow campers are suicidal. Anyway there was an art therapy class and I made it there.”

Though I wouldn’t have minded, Rafi never did ask about that picture.

But last night he did ask his dad “Will mom ever sleep in this house again?”

Some questions are harder to hear than others.