The room rests. Waiting. Expectant. Readying itself to welcome a new resident, who will live out her days within its confines. I peer into the emptiness, for it remains a void across the hall. The new resident will be my neighbor, as was the deceased before her, and the deceased before her, ad continuem….
Living in the same room for 11 years, I have seen many empty rooms through my door.
What now rests quietly will soon vibrate with life. Empty walls will throb with pictures of a spouse, children and grandchildren. Snow covered mountains will thrill her to the memory of speeding downhill, the feel of flight while jumping moguls. Evergreens shading a bark mulch covered path will revive her to the spirit of trail riding. As she creeps down the road of life’s closing days, she’ll be surrounded by life’s glories.
But that’s to come. Now the room remains lonely.