Picture Window

At the top of the stairs of our single-family colonial, I'd look out the back window and look at a flat roof. Previous owners had built a one-story brick extension, but soon enough, our little family pushed the limits of our even littler home. We had already repainted the moldy cabinets, ripped out soggy carpet, and shoveled out thick sludge from the back with a pitchfork. 

At the kitchen table, I drew up plans for an addition on plain paper with a ruler. We couldn't afford an architect, but how hard could it be? The roof would be the floor of a new bedroom. Down below, we'd bump the kitchen out, too. I wrote in the room assignments and measurements. Doodled in a few new shrubs at the perimeter. The sketch remained tucked in a notebook for a few years.

When we welcomed our second baby home, we replaced one of our dressers with a changing table. When he outgrew his crib, we installed bunk beds that fit corner-to-corner and blocked the windows. When I looked out the window, I imagined a door in its place to fit the two growing boys at my feet.

We finally made a deal with the bank to replace the pencil sketch with actual foundation and drywall. Fast forward just less than a decade, and our family of four grew to five in the same house. 

I can still imagine the flat roof outside the long-gone window. The memory makes me wonder what pictures I should draw next.