Transitions

Tonight, we transitioned Chap to a "bigger" boy bed. Whit is still in his "big" boy bed, due to him needing that security. His bed changes to a toddler bed when we feel he is ready, though. I spent the last two weeks refinishing bunk beds that were Corbett's when he was little, and dressers that were mine and Robb's when we were little. It has been a long and tedious project, but it is complete.

Corbett was off today, and while I was at work - he diligently worked on the boys' room - taking down our changing table/dresser - and Chap's baby bed... and replacing them with the bunk beds and the newly finished dressers. He did a wonderful job, and had it all done by the time I got home from work. As soon as I got home, I asked Maggie to show me the new beds. Chap, with excitement ran to his room to show me "my new bed!!"



The transition has gone without a hitch. They have chattered and sung themselves to sleep like they always do... and now they are sound asleep.




Another transition that has been weighing heavily on my heart is one that faces my grandmother. She is 83 years old, and lives alone. My grandfather passed away in 2005, and the first anniversary of his funeral was the day the boys were born... November 17, 2006. Such a special day!

My Memaw's house was broken into a few days ago - while she was in her back yard! She has a love for gardening, and was tending to it when someone broke her window on her back door and entered her house. They stole her wallet, her cell phone, and her camera. She was unable to sleep that night, and stayed up all night in her recliner. The thought of that and the fear that she feels just saddens my heart (and infuriates me that someone would do that to her!). Because, now - she is possibly facing a huge transition.... moving. She and Pepaw lived in that house from the moment they were married... she raised two boys in it... 4 grandchildren, and has watched 6 great grand-children play in her backyard. Her life is that house... that home. Pepaw is that home. And now, ugliness is forcing her out of it.

Memaw spent the dreadful nights of Ike with us (remember... the time Maggie can't seem to shake). My kids kept her busy during the days of darkness, but her mind was on her home... hoping it was safe from the storm. And now, 7 months later, it's not safe - even without a storm.

The thoughts of a transition that she is facing has deep meaning - 62 years of meaning. More than Chap's baby bed - that once was Maggie's - that will soon be my little nephew's bed... and how I treasure that thought. And the thought of Whit's bed - we bought it with money that Memaw gave me after she sold Pepaw's truck. I can only imagine the thoughts she treasures about a house that became a home for 62 years... that she may leave so that she may be safe.