I received a phone call yesterday afternoon and my daughter asked if I wanted to come see her house. She was going to be around the corner from me and I could follow her to her new home. It didn’t take me three seconds to say yes!
Of course, when she called I was sitting here in my robe. (Hey, I’m an author. Authors sit around in robes while we climb into our imaginary worlds and write.) I grabbed my clean jeans! Ten minutes later, my teeth were brushed, my hair was pulled into a bun, and I was ready!
My daughter has moved to a new house in North Carolina. I’d seen the floor plans before it was built. I’d seen photos of it going up. Now I would actually see it!
It’s beautiful! She has a great room , a master bedroom area and two smaller rooms that will be used as a guest room and as an office. There’s also a huge FROG (finished room over the garage) with a half bath. They are still buying furniture for it.
To say I’m thrilled for them is an understatement. She and her husband have worked hard to get to this point. I’ve love to be her neighbor! But that won’t happen. I don’t even want to know what her mortgage payment will be!
I remember the joy of our first new house and I can see that same feeling in her eyes. There are still things that the builder has to do. There’s a wall that must be repainted and a door that isn’t working properly. But the thrill of everything being so new outweighs any concerns.
The backyard is barren of grass and there are no shrubs. I tried to explain what grows well in her sandy soil, but this is not the daughter who gardens. She looked at me with that blank stare. I promised I’d send her a few pictures.
I guess it isn’t much different from looking at a blank screen on the computer. I see an empty document as a place to fill with characters and life. Excitement courses through me.
But maybe it’s part of my personality. I need to fill things. It doesn’t matter if it’s an empty space in the landscape or a blank wall, I need to put something there. An empty tureen, a cake plate, a pretty butter dish, they all need to be filled. So to have a daughter who doesn’t want to fill things? Where did I go wrong?