The Pillows

It's all about the pillows.

Last summer I finally did it. I painted my bedroom and within two days I had the entire room transformed into a sanctuary that would rival that of any bed and breakfast inn any day! Of course I had chosen the color of the paint several years ago. I had purchased everything (two gallons of paint, new paint brushes, tray, and canvas to do the job) 18 months prior to that fateful day in July when I woke up and decided, "Today's the day". It was a hot day when I cracked open that first can of paint. I remember my sister saying, "You're painting today!?" But heat spell be damned! I had woken up motivated and as my husband can attest to, when I get my mind set on something, nothing can stop me.

I was proud of my work. Loving interior design and actually enjoying the task of painting, I'd done almost every other room in the house, rationalizing that those were the rooms that people would see. I let our bedroom remain stark white, expressionless, and blah. Life got busy. There wasn't time. My husband was happy that I had finally made this project a priority. It had only taken 18 years after all.

Upon its completion, there were a few skeptics. My Dad, who for years had seen the condition of my bedroom being the family's catch-all room, was one who wondered if I'd be able to keep my room looking as pristine as those magazine-quality photographs I'd sent out after I'd finished hanging that last picture frame, after I'd positioned that last book upon the new bookshelves. But I was determined to toss back every stray toy I found creeping into my room and every outgrown piece of clothing my children placed on my storage chest.

But I must admit that keeping the room looking great has been challenging. It's not out of the ordinary for me to step on a stray nerf gun bullet. And as I type this now, I see an LL Bean canvas bag filled with stray socks awaiting their mates. I see one of the kids' photo albums, a camera cord, and two Christmas gifts that have not yet been put away. And thank goodness for the door on my closet because it'll take me a good hour (if not longer) to put that back in order. But to me this bedroom is more than a sanctuary. Each day when I come home and enter my bedroom, I see a beautiful bedroom and a reminder of my summer's accomplishment. But there's something in particular about my bedroom that makes me smile. My husband, who comes downstairs in the mornings about 15 minutes later than I do, takes the time each day to not only make the bed, but to pull six decorative pillows out from their night time storage spot behind the headboard, placing them just so in their symmetrical positions. He does not do this for himself, I know. He doesn't usually care about such cosmetic things. This is how much he loves me. This is how much he cares.

It's all about the pillows.