It's just a bed...

Here's an old story: When I was pregnant with Baby Girl (who is currently eleven)  I went into premature labor. By the grace of God she stayed in there and was born right on time. I went home from the hospital on strict bed rest. I was allowed to get out of bed to use the rest room and that was it.  The problem with that lay in that our bedroom was upstairs and our bathroom was downstairs.  Going up and down stairs was not in the prescription of strict bed rest. While I lay in the hospital Dan with the help of his brothers came up with a plan for my return home.  In their minds it was much easier to bring a spare bed from his brothers house  over and put it in our living room then to try and get our bed down the winding narrow stairs of our old historic home.  Thus they did so and I came home to a bed in my living room which I then slept in for two months.

While sleeping in this bed Dan and I commented several times on how soft and plush it was and how superior it was to our bed (a very old one some relative had and we acquired seven years before when we got married.) Dan's brother had bought this one just a couple years before and for some reason we couldn't figure out he didn't like it so he never used it.  We were in love with this bed.  We were really hoping he would just let us keep this fabulous bed.  After Baby Girl was born Dan's brother indeed said he didn't want the bed back, we could either keep it or get rid of it ourselves. Hooray our dreams came true. We had the most comfortable bed either of us have ever experienced.

We loved this bed, for years and years we slept like a king and queen in this bed. We bought a four poster frame off craigslist and I made a canopy for it. It was always up for debate who the bed actually belonged to.  we would spend early mornings snuggling with Baby Girl in this bed. We would hold and love each other in this bed. We would take turns reluctantly getting out of this bed in the middle of the night for a screaming baby. We would put clean sheets on together. We would snuggle up tight in the dead of winter in this bed.

On occasion we would be laying in bed having a discussion, Dan would say something utterly ridiculous and I would playfully respond with "That's it! Get out of my bed"  he would respond back "this is my bed! You get out" I countered "No! this is my bed. your brother gave it to me" Dan countered "That's right it came from my brother, we wouldn't have it if it weren't for me, it's my bed." back to me "your brother would have never given it to us if I weren't pregnant, so it's my bed" Dan always thought he had the last word "Who got you pregnant Jennifer? ha it's my bed"  about that time I would throw my pillow at him. In the end it was our bed, both of us together, we never did much by ourselves, we did everything we could together, we got that bed together, we loved that bed together.

The last moments of Dan's life were in our bed.

Recently My friend from out of town has stayed with me for several nights. She is pregnant and has two toddlers so I graciously let her sleep in my fabulous bed while I slept on the couch, because there is only one of me and I'm not pregnant. one morning she said to me "man I did not sleep well" "hmm I'm sorry" I told her, "must be the pregnancy."  The next morning she said "you know I noticed when you moved into your new house last year that you got all kinds of new things, you got new dishes, new pans, some new furniture. How come you didn't get a new bed?" well thats a silly question I thought. "why would I do that? there is nothing wrong with my bed, my bed is fabulous, I love my bed."  The third morning she took a more direct approach, "look lady, your bed is like sleeping on a pile of rocks, it's awful and I don't know why you torture yourself, you deserve a new bed." wait what? No my bed is fabulous, I love my bed.  So I told her, "I love my bed, why would I get a new bed?" Then she asked me how old it was "O it's just a few years old" Then she made me count. "well lets see I got it when I was pregnant with Baby Girl and it was just a few year old then and hardly used so it's just a few years old."  Then she reminded me how old Baby Girl was, eleven, Baby Girl is eleven, add a few years to that and you can say 15. My bed is 15 years old. Hmmmmmmmmm. "But my bed is so comfortable, I love my bed"  then she said something very therapist which shes prone to do "I'm sure your bed was fabulous, twelve years ago when you got it, but it's not now."

So then I thought about it. The first time I ever thought about it I think. Perhaps my bed isn't as comfortable as it once was. Perhaps my bed has gotten old.  It is kinda hard. Sometimes I can feel the rings. It squeaks every time I roll over. Perhaps I would sleep better with a more comfortable bed. You know me I'll do anything to sleep a little better.

"But Dan got me that bed"

I  can't.

That's our bed.

"It's just a bed" other people tell me when I ask them what they think.

It's just a bed, it's just a house, it's just a dead husband. How much longer until everything we had together is completely gone?

This bed has his DNA all over it. What if they truly figure out cloning one day. If we could get DNA off our bed....... Yes widows actually think like this. This is how much we yearn for our partners.

Sometimes I feel like so much of what we had together is slipping away. The thought of purposelessly getting rid of something we shared so much, we loved in so much. Just the thought hurts. How can I lay on his side and cry if it's not his bed anymore. How can I put my head of the sheets and try to smell him, even though his smell is long gone, sometimes I still try, sometimes I pretend it's there. I won't be able to do that even with a new bed.

I ordered a new mattress, It will be here next week. My old one is old and no longer very comfortable. I don't know for sure that I want to but I'm doing it anyway. I am excited to have a comfy soft mattress to sleep on and at the same time it feels like one more part of our life together is dying.

I wrote a book about my grief, you can read it here: Carry on Castle