by Lana Stockton

Created on: February 17, 2009   Last Updated: June 08, 2010

When I walked in, everything was the same, as if she would be coming home any minute. I meandered over to the end table and smelled the rose she bought last night.

Flowers were a thing between us. One day, a few years ago, when I had been unnecessarily upset at her I bought a flower. It was my was of smoothing over a bad day and the guilt I felt. From time to time a flower would appear from her to me or from me to her. It just appeared. It said everything the words could not.

It was hard to believe she was so far away. So I refused to accept it.

As the days passed I revisited her room. The flower still looked good. Not fresh and beautiful, but it was where she left it. I sniffed it again. Yes, it still smells like a rose.

Day after day I visited, sniffed and refused to believe change was happening. She called me from a couple thousand miles away. I guess that's when reality began to sink in.

And then the day came when I knew it was time. As I opened her door I saw the old rose, now dried and dead in its vase. The sun glistened across her bed. That's when I accepted that she was gone. There would be no more flowers between us. The days of making amends with nothing but a flower sneaked into the house and waiting as a surprise, was over.

Sadly, I took the dry rose in my hands. It was over. It was time for both me and the room to move on.

And we did. Not long after she left I began homeschooling the youngest child. The room now sported huge maps on the walls where geography lessons took place. A chalkboard hung above the old vase that once held my cherished rose. On the chalkboard my youngest child would write fake school lessons for her rubber alligator.

In that room, the young child now put her rubber alligator on a mat, covered him up and told him it was quiet time. On the chalkboard she wrote his lunch menu. He had the most interesting school lunches.

The old room once again was filled with joy, excitement and life.

Even though this happened years ago, I still remember how hard it was to accept the reality of the first one leaving home.  I wonder if my daughter now gives flowers to her own daughter. I hope so.

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