Seasoned Salt

Our plans to update the bathroom of our little house filled us with enthusiasm.  Each color sample that adorned the bathroom wall, the names of which were written in pencil below the appropriate sample, indicated the sheer amount of discussions that took place about paint color.  But that was all part of the fun! Eventually, we purchased a gallon of paint called Powdered Gold to brighten up the small room and a gallon of Seasoned Salt for an accent wall to bring out the sage in the shower curtain and matching soap tray and dispenser that we picked out together out at Bed, Bath & Beyond.  We had also planned to install baseboards throughout the house with the help of his father, Don.  Both projects were put on the back burner, though, when the men hit the ground running on their new pool business during the busiest time of the year.

When Aaron passed, the paint samples on the walls and the two gallons of paint in the spare bedroom became a stark reminder that the bathroom plans we made were no longer fluid and evolving.  Instead, they became frozen in time.  Even worse, they had expired with Aaron.  The gallon of Powdered Gold paint was utilized the very next day following Aaron's death by my dear friends who came by to give my room a make over.  

With everything that happened, one evening just a mere few weeks ago, I decided to put my house up for sale. When I told Aaron's parents this, they both jumped to my rescue. Aaron's mom, Bonnie, packed kitchen cabinets and bookshelves and did a lot of organizing and cleaning for when people come over to look at the house.  Over three days, Don measured, cut and installed baseboards throughout the entire house. While helping him, I thought about Aaron the entire time and about how he was supposed be here to help his dad.  I watched as Don stapled baseboards into the wall knowing that he too was thinking about Aaron.  Somehow we both kept it together, completing the task at hand, while holding tightly behind the closed doors in our minds, the thought of what should have been. When the baseboards were installed, Don and I painted the entire house.  The bathroom was painted a color called Almond Cookie which I found beautiful but meloncholy given that it wasn't the color Aaron and I originally picked out.  

When the work was completed, and Bonnie and Don left to go home, I began cleaning up and putting smaller furniture pieces back in place.

While working, I noticed several cans of paint in the living room that needed to be stored in the garage.  I decided I would appropriately label the lid of each paint can with the corresponding room of the house.  The thought of the future home owner appreciating my efforts should they hammer an ill-placed nail into the wall at some point, brought a smile to my face.  

I grabbed a black marker, knelt down on my knees by the cans of paint and the saw that the can closest to me was Powdered Gold.  This was supposed to be our bathroom color, I thought, as I wrote, "NE Bedroom" on the lid.  The next gallon of paint I came across read "Almond Cookie" on the label prompting me to scribble “Bath” across that lid.  I labeled the lids for the kitchen and spare room paint cans and eventually spotted a gallon container that looked brand new; the lid was shiny silver without any evidence of paint that had dripped down the sides like all the other cans.  I reached for the can to drag it closer so that I could read the label without having to get my glasses.  Once it was close enough, and with marker in hand, I located the paint color on the label.

Seasoned Salt. 

Tears welled up in my eyes.  I stared briefly at the blot on the lid thinking how nicely the color would have brought out the sage green in the shower curtain and matching soap tray and dispenser.  I pulled the cap off my marker and wrote, “Never Used” on the lid.  And I broke down in tears, just as I’m doing again now.  Who knew that a paint color could make me so heartsick.  But, it's not just a paint color.  Instead, it represented my life here with Aaron.  It was to bring our bathroom to life and instead the paint can was left untouched like everything else of his in this house.

Through the tears, I placed the paint cans in the garage to include the brand new gallon of Seasoned Salt which never once accidentally dripped on the bathroom floor, got into my hair or onto Aaron’s shirt by mistake.  The entire bathroom paint scheme died with Aaron ~ the Powdered Gold was used in my room and the Seasoned Salt which was supposed to go on the west wall was...never used.

I sometimes picture the future owner that will move into this house.  I picture how excited she'll be having a place of her own - a cozy retreat to unwind and be herself.  She'll know that Aaron died here but she'll understand that it's my story to take with me; not her story to hold onto here.  She'll fill this place with her own framed photos, decorations and all her personal things.  She'll venture into the garage and spot the cans of paint that I left for her.  When she notices that I labelled each one, she'll smile.  As she leans forward to take a closer look, she'll spot the can with the words "never used" written on the lid.  In a moment of pause, she'll most likely understand that Aaron passed before we got to enjoy that paint color on the wall - she may even wonder for what wall it was destined.  Perhaps, as she's tucking the paint away in a place more suitable for her, this gallon of paint which died with Aaron, will for her be a living, breathing reminder of how fragile life is.  Maybe a brand new, untouched gallon of paint with a shiny silver lid will fill her with gratitude for the life she has and remind her to cherish every single moment.