the clubhouse

When Tim and I purchased a small shed a few years ago for our backyard, we didn't realize it would bring so much excitement to the kids.

It was actually installed while we were still in the hospital, recovering from our wreck. We had ordered it weeks before and didn't realize we'd have to tell them over the phone where we wanted it be placed in the yard.

Because Tim and I weren't physically able to get to it for awhile, Austin took it over as his own personal clubhouse. It was empty for months, except for a small card table, lawn chairs and a fan. Austin, Noah and other kids would play cards, drink cokes, and hang out in the new hot spot of the neighborhood.

Even after we healed and began to fill it with odds and ends, the table remained and Austin always had a shelf of games, a radio, etc. ready for the next club meeting. I don't know how many arguments I broke up because Noah, younger than the rest of the group, didn't understand why his membership would get revoked. I'd have to occupy him and give the bigger kids some time alone; however, I knew Noah would gladly go break it up to do any snooping I needed from time to time.

Austin and his friends played in that shed all year long, using a fan in the summer and a space heater in the winter. There were times when Austin tried to talk us into letting him put a bed in there. Our shed has a partial loft on both sides and he was convinced that would make a dandy bedroom. I chuckled, remembering asking my mom to let me move into the bathroom one summer, when I wanted my own space.

As Austin grew older, the clubhouse changed and he began to enjoy the time out there with his Dad. They would spend hours out there, building shelves, painting, and organizing. (He never had that much excitement in cleaning his room though!) They'd create projects to work on, turn on the tunes and just be. I can imagine the father-son talks they had out in that shed. I know that Tim misses him as he works out there now.

The shed now contains fun memories. Shelves of decorations that Austin always enjoyed helping us put out. Containers of pool toys, yard games and sports equipment. We enjoyed spending time with the boys in the yard, whenever the weather would support it. Tim would play basketball in the mornings with them, waiting for the bus. He'd be met with a smiling Austin, glove in hand, as he pulled into the driveway at night.

I'm glad that a simple shed, meant to organize and hold all the extra junk our house couldn't, also held so many happy memories for Austin - and for us.

An empty room

School is out and summer break is here. I find myself wondering what Austin would be doing now, if he were here.

He would have completed his first year of high school and I'm sure he would've been ready for a break. He would have looked forward to late nights, playing xbox and watching tv, talking to friends on the phone - and to sleeping in until noon, or whenever I woke him up.

I walk past his door, wishing so much that I could open it and see him on his bed. He used it as a couch, for watching tv, doing homework and of course, sleeping. As a teenager, he spent a lot of time in his room, with his door closed and either the stereo or tv on. The room is so quiet now but remains the same, except it is missing the best part. I haven't been able to bring myself to change things. I think we all find comfort in going in there, when we need a little piece of him. His scent is still present and everywhere you look, it is Austin.

His rock collection welcomes you when you open the door. To me, just various shapes and sizes of rocks but to him, so much more. The walls are covered in baseball memorabilia. From posters, to his prized Cardinal's frame, to team photos of him as a kid to a young man, they are memories and collections of his favorite sport. Taking up nearly half a wall is his entertainment center, where he was spoiled with his own television and DVR, complete with surround sound. I remember the year Tim installed it, well before we purchased one for ourselves. It was a birthday present and Austin couldn't have been more excited.

In the corner is a bookshelf, full of his favorite books from birth to teenage years. I never let him throw any books away. Some he passed down to Noah, some I boxed for his closet, and he chose his favorites to keep on the shelves. And along one wall, are shelves filled with boxes and books of baseball cards. I couldn't even guess how many hundreds of cards he has. And even though the stacks were sometimes a mess, he knew right where every important card was.

So many things that made him who he was. So many memories that now just sit and collect dust. I wish that I could turn his doorknob to find it locked, peck gently and wait for him to open it. He rarely did so without giving me a hug, regardless of the time of day. How I wish I could fuss at him, nag at him to pick up his dirty clothes and take out his trash. Now there is nothing to clean up, no mess to fix. How I wish I could sneak in and peek at him at night or before waking him on sunny mornings, to see him sleeping, arms and legs hanging off the sides because he was growing so fast.

But I can't. Instead the room is empty, full now only memories, much like my heart.