Painted Walls
Letting go is never easy.
Back in May of 2018 Christa and I were expecting our son Lennox in just a few months and decided we would paint a mountainous landscape on his nursery wall. The idea was that he would be my little adventure buddy and hopefully, he would share the same passion I have for the outdoors.
August came and things didn’t turn out the way we had planned. Lennox never made it back home with us.
The next few months were very difficult, between trying to convince ourselves that we were okay while trying to rid our home of everything baby. I can remember the day when I decided to pull all the material objects out of the nursery to bring to donation, trying to quiet the chaos in my head while simultaneously saying out loud, “These are just things”. Moments later I found myself outside in a fit of rage, smashing the crib into bits and pieces of splintered wood. These were not just things — these were painful symbols of our lives changing drastically, outside of our control.
So what do you do when you can’t control the things that are happening to you? You change the way that you react to them. And that’s what we did.
We worked to move on as best we could. Well, almost.
The mountains remained on the wall of what was no longer a nursery, but now my home office. I was lucky enough to have a job that allowed me to work remotely twice a week, so I’d spend those days in my office feeling connected. For some reason, the connection I had to the wall felt like an unspoken bond that I had with my deceased son. It made me feel comfortable and it made his death feel less real.
Months passed and I continued to work in that room, not thinking much about it.
In October of 2019, I switched companies and accepted a 100% remote position. I was so excited to be able to have the opportunity to work from home always now, as I could be more present in the lives of my wife and daughter.
Part of the deal with working for a company where you’re 100% remote is that you will spend a lot of time on video conferences, from the comfort of your home office.
“Oh, I didn’t notice those before, are those mountains? That’s cool.”
“Did you paint mountains on your wall over there? I like that.”
Coworkers were noticing the remnants of what my life used to be. What it was supposed to be, but is not.
I realized that I was living in a state of mental purgatory. No matter how long I kept those mountains on that wall, my son was never going to come home to us. I was holding onto something that was holding me back, and it was starting to become a bit unhealthy. What was once seemingly a comfort had turned into a magnifier for my depression.
So again, what do you do when you can’t control what’s happening to you?
I painted the wall. Dark blue.
I’ll always know what that color hides, just as I’ll always know that we had a son.
Holding on to those mountains was part of the grieving process, but that process has multiple stages and you need to move through each one to get to the next. I wasn’t moving on, as much as I tried to pretend.
Today I sit here reflecting on my choice and I’ve realized something. Just like changing the color of that wall to revitalize the space, we can also change our internal colors and revitalize our lives. It doesn’t mean we forget what lies underneath that fresh coat, we’re simply changing the way we react to the room.
Sometimes it’s necessary even if it hurts or feels uncomfortable. The world will change around you and if you don’t respond to it then you can find yourself stuck or losing control.
If life finds you staring at a dull wall, pick up your brush, and paint it differently.
