I am from young love that began with my parents’ first meet cute that blossomed into 54 years of marriage.

I am from a father who loves music, trivia, history, Phillies baseball, and jigsaw puzzles.

I am from a mother who looks for kindness in everyone, beauty in everything, and dreams of a more tolerant world.

I am from a sister who I have a special bond and shared memories with, and a penchant for quoting 80s movies.

I am from parents who believed we were everything and bullies who thought we were nothing.

I am from bouts of depression and anxiety which is under control but rears its ugly head when life becomes too much to handle.

I am from teachers who recognized my gift for the written word since the fourth grade and encouraged me to share it with the world.

I am from the imposter syndrome and self-doubt that plagues every writer, along with the strength to ignore it and write anyway.

I am from a loving Jewish community that raised me, taught me, sustained me, and continues to fulfill me.

I am from a husband who adores and supports me for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.

I am from my children, who have taught me as much as I have taught them, who continue to amaze me, and who are my pride and joy.

I am from my childhood bedroom, where I read books past my bedtime with a flashlight under my pillow.

I am from old friends who have come and gone and those who stayed with me and wish I saw more often.

I am from new friends who I made later in life, share my life with, and can’t live without.

I am from a lifetime of failures I’ve endured and successes I’ve celebrated with the people I love.

Where are you from? Share your thoughts in the comments. 

XO,

Elisa

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Last week, Jenna started a new job in Maryland, 100+ miles away from home. In a few weeks, she is moving into an apartment and will make it her own. She will definitely come to visit us on quick trips home and long weekends when she can get away. When she comes home, her bedroom is here for her, but what about the rest of the time?

I’m thinking about the possibilities.

First of all, her closet is huge. Once we clean it out (with her help, of course), I can store things in there that we don’t have a place for right now. And yes, I know that I should declutter and rid myself of the things I no longer need – but that’s not what this post is about. Stay with me. LOL!

She also has an impractical desk in her room that she used on and off to do homework. It’s impractical because there is a hutch and shelves attached to it with very little room to spread out and work. What if I replaced it with a pretty writing desk and dedicated part of that room as my writing studio? It’s the perfect corner of the house for me to think, dream, and write. The big windows look out onto the backyard where many family memories took place. Inspiration galore! And did I mention that Jenna’s room has the one thing every writer needs to shut out any distractions from the real world and write to their heart’s content? It has a door to close.

Believe me when I say that it is not my intention to take over her room or change it into something completely different. I’m not creating an indoor “she-shed” or a workout room. It is still hers for as long as she comes home to enjoy it. Her queen-size bed, cushy throw pillows, wall art, and favorite stuffed animals will still be there. Her stickers and shot glasses will remain by the mirror. I’ll keep whatever she wants to save in her closet and dresser. None of her stuff will be touched – except maybe the desk. I’m sure she won’t mind, and if she does, she will let me know after she reads this post!

What do you think? How did you repurpose your children’s rooms after they left the nest? Let me know in the comments. 

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