The Day the Butterfly Flew Away

It was an odd week at the Bath House. The many layers of wallpaper almost told a story. Was it the mood of the lady of the house, Mrs. B, that chose each pattern, or the desire for something familiar but new? When I finally reached the bottom layer, concrete dust spewed back at me from the scraper. Cold, rough, cell-like concrete. It really made me wonder what Mrs. B thought when she first saw that wall. Maybe she didn't have the know-how or funds for plaster, and just really wanted something beautiful to adorn this room thus choosing wallpaper. The walls would still feel cold and unforgiving, but have a beautiful exterior - or nearly beautiful unless one was up close. Then, each time the wall faded or her maybe the seasons changed, she'd choose another pattern. Did she buy what was on sale or what her heart desired? Somehow, scraping the layers away, I felt a connection to Mrs. B. It was as if the eyes in the wall replayed many memories in the home, and I really wondered if she was watching from where she is today. Maybe, just maybe, her soul could be more at rest with those layers removed.

The butterfly puzzle on the wall came down with a thud, and truthfully, I couldn't decide whether it was put together by Mrs. B or another member of the family - it was glued skillfully with the purpose of adorning the wall. Being a family that served in the military, the butterfly puzzle definitely told a story of bravery and American history. It proudly adorned the doorway of that room, but definitely did not match the beauty that once met those walls with wallpapered patterns. It was almost a man-cave option in a weird sort of way - if you can ever see a butterfly as manly. The beauty of it was it also ended an era of this family - their joys, their struggles, their memories - and the butterfly flew away to create a beautiful new more-modern room that will welcome laughter and memories for a new family, a new generation in the house of Bath.