This morning, his alarm goes off before mine and I, groggily, confused, grab for it. My alarm is set for 6, his for 6:30. What happened to my alarm? I tossed his beeping phone to him. “It’s 6:30.” And then flop back down.
(My alarm might be set for 6. I didn’t say I get up at 6.)
He rolls over me and out of bed. A couple seconds later, my alarm goes off. I squint at it. It’s 6. This is not that unusual. Every so often, he has to get to work early and, since we’d both been out at different places until late last night (in the lightning show! Did you see it?), we hadn’t had much of a chance to talk and debrief.
But I don’t hear the shower. Or the running up and down the stairs to grab clothes. I hear almost nothing.
I go back to sleep, hit snooze a few more times. Finally struggle out of bed at 6:40 and head into my morning routine. And stop. There, in our empty bedroom, still in his pjs is the Husband, paintbrush in hand, carefully cutting around our glistening white trim.
Tonight, our bed moves for the last time. To celebrate, I created a mood board!
(Bedside table: Ikea)
(Walls: Heathered Moor [Martha Stewart]/Blackberry Mocha [Behr])
(Random bed: not the one we have)
(Random Etsy artwork which I fell in love with the minute I saw it and might purchase because I think it’s perfect. Here.)