Wednesday, February 04, 2015

In the sky

I have a very tall bed.
It's higher than my hips with the box spring frame in the mix. I remember the day I bought my new mattress and box spring... setting it into the bed frame where there'd been plywood for as long as I'd been the bed's owner.

The bed belonged to my Grandma R, my mom's mom. For some lucky and unknown reason she left me her bedroom set. I only wanted the plant stand (now long gone to the bluebox on a day that I needed  to purge my belongings), and I think there were some tensions from the other older cousins that mom shielded me from when it was announced. Maybe the long suffering return on being named after grandpa?

When I placed the mattress on top of the box spring and saw the bed's height I was transported in time to her home, being too little to even get onto her bed without assistance, the awe I felt looking down at the floor from my high perch.

I think of those times and the visits to grandma's place nearly every night that I climb into my bed. Some nights I give a little hop and swing into bed, but most nights I tuck my shoulder in and combat roll myself into place. My high perched pillows.

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