In My Room

"There's a world where I can go and tell my secrets to
In my room, in my room
In this world I lock out all my worries and my fears
In my room, in my room

Do my dreaming and my scheming
Lie awake and pray
Do my crying and my sighing
Laugh at yesterday

Now it's dark and I'm alone
But I won't be afraid
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room."

These lyrics to the famous Beach Boy's classic have always been a favorite of mine. They have always spoken to me in a special way. We all need a place to go where we can be alone sometimes. I think that's what this song says to me.

For the first 10 years of my life, my brother and I shared a room. It was small. Just wide enough to house two twin beds with Mom's cedar chest inbetween. There was a super small closet at the end of the room and just enough room for a tiny chest of drawers to the left of the door. It was the classic "attic" room with the steeply pitched ceiling. One window faced the north. It was papered in "fake" wood look wallpaper.

When the parents built the new house, they said two bedrooms was enough, so brother and I still shared the same room. It was larger, but still had the same twin beds, cedar chest and chest of drawers. It didn't take too long for Mom and Dad to realize that their bedroom wasn't big enough to house them, their furniture and their clothes. So, they built on another room for themselves, with two large closets, lots of floor space and a wonderful picture window facing the lake. All of a sudden, I had a room of my own. It became my private sanctuary. I could sit in there and read, draw, or just daydream. It was always a mess, but I liked it that way.

In college, I lived in a variety of apartments, coops, and rooming houses. Usually I had a roommate. That worked pretty well most of the time.

When I married, of course I shared. Some of our houses had large bedrooms, some very tiny. When we bought this house, it wasn't finished inside, so we could decorate our room from top to bottom. Tilly chose "mauve" (a dusty pink) carpet, white walls and curtains, and then accented it with blues and white and pink. Very feminine, but she had a right to do her thing. I didn't really care. Until she passed away, it was "her room" so to speak. Since her passing, I have made that the one room that is totally mine. I ripped up the carpet and put down a neutral tone, yet on the gold side carpet. I painted three walls of the room what I call "milk chocolate," with the fourth wall a deep red. White woodwork and ceiling. I moved the queen sized bed upstairs and put a twin bed in my room. I have a TV, a CD player and a good reading lamp in there along with an antique sea trunk and an amoire. I made my own window treatments, and have accented the walls with some "music" art. This is where I go when the world seems to be closing in around me. This is where I do my sighing and my crying, my dreaming and scheming. It's also where I go to watch TV when Prof and Kiddo what to watch something I don't want to watch. It is also where I go to read and think.

I am not antisocial at all, and I love having my daughter and grandson here! But there comes a time when all of us need a place and time to be quiet and peaceful. I have it "in my room." Cool huh?

Peace, (when I want it)
JE