My Own Bed

Whenever Iget back from a trip, one of the joys of coming home is sleeping in my own bed. For five years after my divorce, I slept on a folding camp cot that I hauled with me from dwelling to dwelling. Then…for my 50th birthday present to myself, I bought a bed. Mattress, box springs, and frame. I stuck the carved walnut footboard from my Grandmother’s bed up against the wall as a headboard (the real one was long gone) and rejoiced in my newfound sleeping situation. That bed lasted me until I moved to Missouri at which time I went all out and bought a very expensive mattress which I still have. I love it! It is perfect comfort. I’m diligent about turning it regularly so it doesn’t have a big hollow dent in it like the one I had before.

At this time of year, I remake it for the Fall/Winter season with an electric heated mattress pad and flannel sheets. On top goes my gorgeous wool Pendleton blanket with a blue fleece over it to protect it from the cat and seal in the warmth. Going to bed is a ritual for me. I go in about a half hour ahead and turn on the heated pad. Then when I slide in I am all cozy and snug. I lie first on my left side which helps straighten out one half of the curve in my spine, then I turn on my right side and relax the other half. After all the bones have settled, I lie on my back and stretch out full length and luxuriate in the warmth and safety of my own bed. Under the covers, late at night, when all is black when I open my eyes, it is one of the few places I feel totally safe.