My Craft room/office has been upstairs for a few years now...
I was happy there and had no reason to be anywhere else. I loved the vantage point and the view over the garden it provided me with and enjoyed the peace and quiet ... a "Sanity Space" to write and create. But things have changed... as they always do.
Since Heni died, I have had the difficult task of walking numerous times daily by her room and seeing everything left as it was... shelves teaming full of " friends" that she loved....
... her bed... in which she fell asleep and never awoke again.
Memories oozed from the room with each passing... memories of the sensory wonderland we would sometimes make and spend hours playing in...
...the fun hours she spent watching and giggling away at the movies projected onto her wall...
...and the stories that each riot of colour, texture and piece of "stuff" (that filled every nook and cranny with hardly a space to move) held. You could say that her room was full of life.
Then it was empty.... and I had the same but more difficult task of walking by her room daily, seeing it bare... unclothed of all the colour and life it once wore... the years of memories stripped away.
It hurt... and it hurt bad.
So although I have been happy upstairs hiding away in my sanity space, I eventually decided to give Heni's room a new lease of life...re-purposing it by bringing the craft room downstairs and making it into a place in which I could sit with my thoughts, write, do projects and be at peace in Her space once again.
Its easy to re-purpose a room... the blank canvas can be written on and made in to something new and exciting. But although the room was blank I wanted to maintain a lot of Heni in it. I wanted to have bright colours like she did, and have some of her things around me still.
The photos of Heni that I displayed at her funeral.... are hung from the picture rail so I can still see her smiley face every day.
...and a host of family photos hang on the walls ... to remind me that I am still surrounded by my families love...even though one of them is apart from us for a season.
The wood plank trestle table fit in perfectly under the window... with millimeters to spare....
...the shelves are perfect for all of the craft supplies, in ready sight, waiting to be used...
and the re-purposed table which hubby made for me (so I could wheel it in to the middle of the room for extra workspace) has its own perfect place.
Even the picture my mother in law painted hangs on the wall ... the rolling waves reminding me of the tides of grief and the ever changing seascape of emotion that we are all subject to.
The room now lives and breathes again. It has a lovely cosy /Hygge feel to it and I sense that Heni would approve of its new usage.
Yes, the re-purposing of a room is easy... what is difficult is the re-purposing of a life in the wake of death that is the harder part. The next big challenge and adventure of creating a new me.
But, I presume, the process of change that is ahead will have its similarities. The transformation of Heni's room from one use to another has taught me that not everything has to be discarded and thrown out. Old things have uses and reminders of who we once were ...and that is needful and reassuring. It may be harder to put new things in place as I am not such a blank canvas (bearing the marks of pevious life's lessons) but I am willing to be written on and to make life in to something new and exciting.
Even though the room is now being used as a craft room and has a new utility... it will forever be Heni's room to me... and as I move in to re-purposing my own life (looking for new ways and uses of me as a person)...I can remember that whatever I become, I will also still forever be Heni's mum.
As I sit working on creations and pieces of work in Heni's space there is some encouragement and relief that it's not all down to me ... it's comforting to know that the maker of all is watching and is also crafting away, being the true re-purposer here... creating the version of me that He ultimately wants. Hopefully the emotions laid bare to grief will one day, again be clothed with a riot of brilliant colour, texture and a new full life.