New Comfort

            One of my friends bought a new bed, frame, box springs, and mattress. She loved the way the old mattress cradled her body, but it was time for a new bed. When the bed moved into her home, she spent her day happily making up the bed with no doubt daydreams of her nighttime slumber.

            I love my bed. It has given me great comfort and over the years I have gotten several new beds to sleep on. As I have aged, I have to admit I head towards the bed more often for my lie downs in the morning or afternoon. I don’t always nap but somehow the act of being prone on the bed for a bit helps to revitalize me. So why not?

            When you have the comforts, it is hard to think of those without. Giving thanks for the comfort of my bed is one of my prayers of gratitude. I say it frequently. Sometimes, crawling out of the warmth of the blankets is difficult in the morning. My pillow, God, Goddess how I love my pillow! It is easy for me not to move any further than one foot dangling over the edge as I rest my head back on the pillow before I start breathing for a new day.

            I started thinking about the various places where I slept. A three-tier bunkbed is the first I remember though I probably had a crib when I was a baby. I was the oldest child, so I was on the top bunk. After our oldest sister got married and moved out, my younger sister and I moved into her bedroom and her double bed, we slept together until we moved into the house on the river where once again, we shared a bed.

            I was eighteen when I first got a single bed to myself. I was in college. I didn’t share another bed until I got married. I am still married but to the man, my husband after a brief time of divorce to the first husband, being single again and finally, married. Couches, I slept on a lot of those while visiting relatives, a pull-out bed with a snoring aunt. There was outside sleeping on the top of a baled haystack, with dogs on guard while coyotes howled on in the night. We didn’t have sleeping bags, a wool blanket, dogs, and sometimes a friend to shiver with while sleeping under the stars. In college, there were sleeping bags, leaky tents, along with the rocky ground.

            You just can’t get past the need to sleep, and we get excited when we get the new comfort of a bed which doesn’t sag, with box springs silent, and just the right number of blankets or quilts to hold the warmth throughout the night. If we are lucky, our dreams are sweet, we are safe, slumbering deeply, waking up refreshed.

            I sleep in a separate bedroom from the man, my husband. He snores mightily and has problems sleeping. He will turn on the light, read, or toss and turn. He was relieved when I asked if he would mind if I slept in another bedroom. He said he wouldn’t have to worry about waking me up. It works for us and I still get kisses.

            Sleep, a time of healing. It is a good thing. Except when trying to finish a good book, trying to write the best novel in history or playing games with friends. Hmmm, I think I will nap on it.