In Easy Reach

I loved that the first thing she did each morning was walk to her bedroom window. I could tell from the way she lived her life that she was a well-informed woman...and likely knew what the forecast was in advance, but I'll be damned(!), she always seemed surprised when she parted the curtain panels. Some mornings were still quite dark...storms pending perhaps? Other mornings, the window framed a page from a child's coloring book, post-crayon play... with joyful colors abounding. BUT no matter the day, no matter the surprise, she remained at that window for a moment to take in all in...and smiled. She always smiled. I liked that most about her.

I also liked that she had a round table in her room... just left of the window, kitty-corner to the foot of her bed. The only function the table had was holding the things she liked to look at, like photos...lots of framed photos...a Waterford lamp from her grandmother and the things she grabbed most often - - like her daily jewels. She was simple in nature and kept pretty much to the same pieces each day. Less concerned about trying to impress others, and more about the fondness that grew over time for each piece.

She was an organized individual...a-place-for everything-and-everything-in-its-place kinda girl...so her underbed space was used very efficiently. She would slide covered plastic tubs out from season-to-season, and always worked diligently to keep her bedroom neat. One tub held purses and bags of various shapes, sizes and textures. It wasn't a small tub, and while all contents seemed content, I was curious about their shared space. You see, I never made it to the tub. When not with her, I've always landed on that round table....among her other heart-fortifying go-to's. I liked it there, and I think she knew it. I loved the start of each new day as much as her...maybe more. Whether I went out with her or not for the day, I always knew we started the day together... And that, for the both of us, seemed to be enough.