I have been getting a master bedroom with it's ensuite ready for my now only daughter who is living at home with us. We happen to have two of such rooms on the upstairs floor; we have the smaller. We have been painting walls, cleaning cupboards, and washing window sills. I still have the baseboards to paint, and perhaps some of the ledges, but I am so tired. I'm fixed on the sofa flat on my back.
Next comes the moving of her furniture and stuff into the room. Then comes me filling the room she vacated with a bed and desk and other things that a student may enjoy having in their bedroom. This will be a guest room, or one used to host a foreign student. Not sure which yet. All I know is that we are having too many rooms, and not enough people in this house. I feel I'm re-living the empty nest syndrome all over again. Even my daughter who is moving into the freshly painted bedroom is saying that she takes no joy in this, as her sister Deborah is not here. It should have been her and Deborah, the last two of the youngest sisters enjoying living at home. Now she has lost her friend and companion. She is left by herself with her parents.
I feel so sad for my Sarah. She was weeping with alligator tears as she was filling up the closet with her clothes the other day. Even music did not cheer her. The absence of Deborah is playing out big time, in all of our lives.
As aging parents, we are too missing her company, her laughter, her presence. We would have done anything to keep her close to us; to keep her alive had her suicide attempt not been 'successful'. Now we are left with empty rooms, empty hearts. Lord Jesus Come soon.
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