Once Upon A Time

When I was a little girl, I had a baby doll that I took everywhere. To me she was real. However, she never had a name. I don't remember why I never named her. Maybe I just couldn't think of a name that suited her. Anyway, my mom just called her the baby that I carried around too much and it stuck. To this day I still have baby that I carried around too much. She now resides in Bryan's room. Which, of course, is no longer Bryan's room, yet somehow, will always be Bryan's room. Funny how things and people get their name. I was named Ginger. Not Virginia, just Ginger. It's like my mom knew I would have red hair. My name, although often considered a nickname, suits me. I am a Ginger, right down to my spitfire attitude. Which I am currently working on after being berated for something I wrote in an earlier post. No, I will not point it out nor remove it. It is my feelings and although I have apologized to the offended party, it stays.

We are coming up on 11 months after saying goodbye to our sweet B-man and I am no closer to clearing out his room than I was in those first few days. I have done some re-arranging and storing of items which has allowed us to put a home gym and treadmill in there as well as Moo Baby's toys. You may ask how does it all fit? The answer to that is simple. He had a huge bedroom. It was designed as a mother-in-law suite and he got it all. It was perfect for him. The whole house itself was perfect for him. He was, in fact, the reason we bought such a large home. Now, with just the two of us, half of the house is seldom used. It is sad really. There used to be loud and fun-filled parties here that often ended out by the pool well after midnight. Now, we are thrilled to just have a neighbor drop by with a mishandled piece of mail. The house even has a name, "Seven Palms". So named for the seven little plam trees planted around the pool that first summer we lived here. Sadly, the last freeze took the life of six of those beautiful trees. If fact, the life feels drained from our once lively home as well. Missing are a good friend and a happy little man. Two very special people.

What will it take to breathe life back into this nearly comatose hacienda? Moo baby's laughter? For a short while maybe. I fear the draw of it has expired along with the reason for it's being. We have pondered more than once, selling it and moving to a smaller home. One that does not echo the sounds of the past like a haunting melody that awakens me from a restless sleep. But a new place would be bereft of the scuff marks left behind by a Rudy driven wheelchair run amok. It would not know the sounds of a really great belly laugh after the owner of that incredible laugh had knocked over chairs just to hear the noise. It would not have the telltale ramps and lifts that reveal the abilities of a previous occupant. No, I think I Seven Palms is exactly where we need to be....for now.