Last week I had to abandon my bed for a while. Let’s just say my cat Dagny had a urinary problem I did not know about until an event on my bed. I feel I need not say more.
So while it has been cleaned 20 times and is still airing out, I have slept on Kaitlyn’s old bed (and Stephanie’s before her). I don’t even know how to say how I felt in getting into the bed that Kaitlyn last slept in when she was here just before she died, sleeping on the same side I knew she slept on. Thinking how many times she laid her head down on that very pillow.
I awake in the morning surrounded by her books on her bookshelf and the memories that permeate this room. A young person’s room that once had medals and plaques and art that once graced its walls. (She finally took them all down and put them in drawers because she was modest and didn’t want to seem conceited or anything. I’m the one that hung them in the first place. Conceited is the last thing in the world Kaitlyn could have ever been. It was not in her to be that way).
And as I lay there each morning awake several minutes thinking of my little girl, that became a woman that is no longer here, the song lyric goes through my mind, “and I knew you pigtails and all, girls when they fall…..”
But did she really fall?