Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Enter (02/27/06)
- TITLE: ORU Bound
By Elaine Taylor
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Usually, when you read such a statement, you think of danger, or, in the case of a teen age boy's room, possbile contained chaos. Not so, with my son. His bedroom door is his outlet for total disorganized abandonment. His room, on the other hand, is extremely neat and clean. He did not receive this trait from his father. I am usually orderly, but in a cozy, slightly cluttered way. My son is spartan.
His room has not changed much since we first decorated it years before in the early days of our marriage. It's a small room, but large enough to contain an antique twin bed that we discovered at a yard sale, an upright dresser and mirror that my parents brought back from Europe, a black, wooden rocking chair, a non-descript, tiny table serving as a night stand and a bookshelf that once held my father's books when he was my son's age. There is a framed tissue drawing of a boy in a boat that my husband drew when he was younger. Two pictures of bi-planes fly on the opposite wall from the ever sailing boy and boat. In the bookcase resides classics from Tolkien, Wells, London and the like. On the night stand resides a much thumbed through Bible. A prom picture showing my smiling son and his high school sweetheart is on proud display atop the dresser. No socks, or books, or shoes litter the floor. No empty glasses or late night bowls of cereal are hiding under the bed. The closet shows garments hanging in pressed harmony.
I have entered, at my own risk, to sit and rock; to remember what it was like becoming a mother for the first time. Bringing home my baby boy; nursing in this very rocker. Singing lullabyes, dreaming big dreams; planning the future for this bright eyed bundle. It doesn't seem that long ago.
Tomorrow, he leaves for college. His suitcases are already packed and wait silently by the door. I am by no means about to become an empty nester; not with three girls under twelve still to raise. But...they say parents begin the process of letting go the moment they bring their child into this world. It's a gradual thing; crawling, walking, dressing themselves, drinking from a sippy cup, potty training, the first day of kindergarten, and then... it becomes faster and faster; sleepovers away from home, church camp, basketball camp, driver's ed, first job at the pizza place, missionary trip to Mexico, girlfriends, SAT's, college applications...
The sound of car doors stirs me from my reverie. My husband, son and daughters have finally returned from shopping for last minute college necessities. I am sure Cheesy Poofs (his favorite snack) were on the list. I realize it's almost time to eat and I haven't even started dinner. I gently close the bedroom door and make my way to the kichen to welcome my family home.
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