This post will be beneficial to no one but me I’m sure, but I just needed to post some pictures of my daughter’s last apartment. When she was still in undergrad at Campbell University, after about a year and a half she moved into her own apartment in Cary, NC. She decorated it beautifully. I was with her when she bought the main things for her apartment like the bed, dresser, couch and things like that. Being with her that day and letting her have fun picking out all the new things for her new apartment was one of the best days we ever had together. She was so happy. I remember us walking along and her just grabbing and hugging me she was so happy. It would be the first time she was really on her own. She didn’t want a roommate, so this would be totally her own creation. No sharing of tastes, she could do what she wanted.
Before she moved everything in, there was something she had to do. Of course all the walls were white and this was totally unacceptable to her. She could not bear the thought of plain white walls and wanted to paint them. Oh her father and I tried so hard to talk her out of it, telling her it would be so much work for her. But she would have none of that. She made sure it was ok with the management and it was, only that she would have to paint it back white when she moved, or pay a fee to have it painted back.
So, she, all by herself, (we had gone back to our home hours away) picked out the paint, the tape to cover edges, and bought all the brushes etc. and painted that apartment herself. All but the bedroom and bathroom she left white. She did not pick out what we thought “normal” colors. She picked out a pretty green and a pretty burgundy type color, as well as a dark brown and she painted the walls a different color each. When we heard she was going to use these colors we were horrified. Again, we tried to talk her out of it thinking she’d never be able to match things to those colors and they were too dark. Again, she would hear none of that and went about painting it the color she wanted. And so she did.
The results of her work and the vision she had in her mind turned out to be nothing less than absolutely beautiful. Once again I was reminded that my simple, conservative taste was nothing to her creative, brilliant mind and good taste. The furniture matched perfectly. She bought pictures to match her color schemes and decorated it so beautifully. Her father and I were both amazed. But then again, Kaitlyn always amazed us.
So she lived there a couple of years and then got accepted into medical school. That meant she had to move hours away into another city, Winston-Salem, NC. This time she went on her very own and found an apartment herself, (we had went with her the first time), signed the lease and took care of everything on her own. We did get a U-Haul and helped her move everything in her apartment along with the help of her boyfriend.
And yes, the walls were white. We had already moved the furniture in there. But she wanted to paint it. We tried to tell her it would be too much trouble for her to cover the furniture and go to all that trouble of painting again especially with her being so busy in preparing to start medical school very soon. Again, she didn’t listen to us and did what she wanted. This time, her boyfriend helped her. Again, it turned out beautiful. She used the same colors but chose to only use the burgundy and the brown this time. She left the bathroom and her bedroom white.
The pictures I’m including are in her apartment she lived in when she died. Her second one I mentioned. Though there had been paintings she bought after these pictures and some moving around of furniture, and a few new items and furniture items, this is basically what it looked like.
Every time we went to her apartment I would walk around it and admire it. Many times finding new things she had purchased. I loved going to see her and she was proud of her place.
When she died, her father and I had to go to her apartment and painstakingly take down each and every painting, wrap up and box all her glasses, pots, pans, kitchen ware, clothes, bedding, and just everything she had. This, aside from her death and agony of losing her and the continued horrible pain I feel now, was the worst experience of my entire life. Bits and pieces of her life being taken down and put in boxes. All the things she loved and took such time and thought into buying all put in boxes and she would never use or touch them again.
Before her bed was taken out by my husband and brothers-in-law on the second day (me and her father did the smaller things the day before), I lay on her bed. I lay in the exact spot where she more than likely died. I cried and I felt my soul being torn out of my body. When the bed was taken out, I lay in the same spot on the floor and I cried a bitter cry of the grief stricken and bewildered. We literally packed up her life and moved it away.
Much of her furniture I kept and so much of it went to her sister as well. I gave none of her furniture away. Her living room suit now sits in my living room and sometimes, just sometimes, in my mind, I still see her sitting in that beautiful green couch, feet on her table, laptop in her lap, studying. And then she is gone.
A little messy studying.