I've got two babies asleep on my bed.  Well, a baby and a four year old, actually.  They're cuddled together in one corner, the baby with no pillow, the four year old with my one pillow, snuggled together gentle deep breaths and tiny baby snores fill the room.

A candle, one single one for now, is lit, casting a dancing reflection across a tower of CDs, perched upon the upper edge of my desk.  It was a peppermint striped candle that wafts sweet peppermint oil into the air.  Beside it rests an burnt candle, a deep burgundy in shade, melted into a round glass container.  Swirls of gold and white decorate the outside of it.  If you lean down into it the fragrance of baking apple pie fills the air.  

Beyond the candles, tacked precariously to the pepto bismol pink walls, I see a lighthouse on sheared cliff face, a calendar nearing the end of its useful life.  Less than a month of time before it will be discarded and forgotten about.  Beside it, a few Christmas cards grace the wall.  A start of this years collection from around the world.  Every time a  new one appears in my mailbox, I giggle with glee before placing it in the perfect spot to continue on the tree like shape on my wall.

If you look further to the left, a tied, dried bunch of roses rest.  A bouquet so lovingly given and carefully preserved for memory's sake.  And then the corner of the wall, which attaches to the door of the room.  Old, hollow wood door, with paint spots on the back from an earlier occupant, one who liked Pepto Pink and baby blue.  A plastic grocery sack hangs from the battered ol' shineless gold knob.  The contents of which are unseen.

To the left of the door, a picture in an acrylic frame, it is me in my cap and gown from my high school graduation, my diploma in my hand, tassels in my ears and on my head.  A smile bigger than you would ever imagine across my face.  A day of almost 10 years ago that my parents thought would never come, all that left are the pictures of that day.

As your eyes cruise down the wall a painting, about 5X7 of a woman, a chubby woman, the moon in her arms, the stars in her hair.  One of my favorite paintings ever, as it was painted for me by one of the most wonderful women I know.  And even though we seldom talk now, everytime I look at it, I think of her and smile.  A women I've never met, but who is my friend.

I continue around the walls, shelves full of lighthouses and various glasses of importance perched solely for the beauty.  Lighthouses of various shapes, sizes and makes, given to me by some of the people I love the most, my mother-in-law, my Granny, and my husband.  Everyone of them makes me happy as I know they were picked out with me in mind and given with love.  They are some of the most perfect replicas of various real lighthouses in the world.

But, before you get to that there is a small shelf with just our alarm clock on it.  A burnished gold color that works when it feels like it.  Above that shelf, the sole enlarged picture from our wedding.  Tony and I smiling, arms around one another, sitting in front of our unity candle right after the ceremony that made us husband and wife.  It is one of my favorite 2 pictures from that day.

Pink Christmas lights dangle in around and over the picture and the lighthouse shelf, a soft glow fills the room with soft lighting making it a peaceful place to be.  The blue sheer curtains fight to keep the chilled night air out, but fail miserably.  It's only with these lights that the room feels warmer than it is.  Past the windows is a set of shelves covered in books and games, resting at the top, another painting, this one purples and greens surround a woman with flowing, waving hair, jewelry in her ears, nose, lip and eyebrows.  A painting by another wonderful woman, one I've only met once, several years ago.  

Which brings us back the the desk, two computers, one pulled apart, the other without its plastic cover, a printer, a fax machine live here, along with more piles of CDs, and a mirror and various bits and pieces of craft projects intermingle.  Beside the candles, rests a rock, a tan rock, oblong in shape, heavier than it looks, only a couple inches long lies.  A gift of love from the four year old given to me almost a year ago.

And I smile.
 

Suzy Smith