My Side of the Bed

From the very beginning, my hubby had his side of the bed. Even when travelling, whether we stayed in a hotel or someone’s home, he had his side of the bed. I remember once in a motel, trying to convince him to switch with me. After all, it isn’t a familiar room. Lets face it, depending on the room his side may be closest to the window or the door. I though he should sleep on the side closest to the door. At least that was my argument just to see if he would switch out of undying love for me as well as fear of my impending death. After all, an intruder would most likely kill the person closest to the door. Right? Apparently, his logic was that it was best if I died first. It would be quick and painless. If he died first, I was weaker and would most likely be brutally and savagely raped and tortured and death would be slow and painful. Apparently he was only thinking of me. He kept his side of the bed.

When he died that bed seemed so big. For awhile I stayed on my side. My night stand had my stuff. My books. My glasses. Even the drawers were a personal deposit of stuff. My stuff. His side had his stuff. It took me a long time to go through his night stand. When I di the emotions were all over the map. I found a green garter that made me laugh as I remembered. One day as he was rummaging in the drawer, I caught sight of the garter. It was pale green trimmed with white lace. My bridesmaids dresses were green. I had worn it on my wedding day along with a blue one my sister-in-law gave me. That is the one we threw away. My hubby knew I had seen it and in an awkward voice asked if it was from our wedding. I knew he couldn’t remember where it came from and he was embarrassed and worried that I would be upset. At first I thought about messing with him but his anxious face made me change my mind. I reassured him it was from our wedding and his whole body seemed to relax with relief. It still resides in his night stand. A memento from a special day that he kept. Although he couldn’t remember why.

There was a cork from a wine bottle as well. I thought perhaps it was the champagne cork from our wedding night. We opened the bottle in our room that some friends had delivered to the hotel. We were both exhausted so we drank a toast and went to bed. The next morning as we perused the room service menu we caught sight of the price of the bottle of Dom Perignon we had opened and left to go flat. We were horrified. So breakfast on our first day of marriage was an almost full bottle of very expensive champagne. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t flat. And we downed it. As I went down memory lane, I turned the cork over in my hands and realized it wasn’t from champagne, but rather some type of prosecco. Hmmm. Wonder why he saved that? I put it back in the drawer.

I pulled out a small notebook. Looking through it I realized it was a record of medications he had been taking. When he went on them and when he stopped them. There were notes on his test results as well as his symptoms that eventually turned out to be cancer. Little did he know. The tears came fast and heavy as I remembered arguments we had about his meds. They continually gave him pancreatitis and his doctor would take him off the meds until the pain subsided only to put him back on. We came from different backgrounds. His was influenced by his Mother, a Nurse. Mine was a distrust in the allopathic medical profession. He placed a blind trust in his Doctor while my faith was in a Naturopath. The notebook went to the back of the drawer. What was done was done.

There was a golf scorecard from June of 2019. From the Strathmore golf course where we have golfed since we were kids. We actually bought our share membership from our High School Principal when he had some health problems and quit the game. He was in his sixties when he sold us the share. Apparently he is in his nineties now and still going strong. Yet my husband has been gone for over 6 years. Crazy right. But the golf card from that day showed my hubby shot a 77. Those were the cards he kept. We still have the ball he used when he broke 80 for the first time. Hard to believe that 19 weeks later he was gone.

He always had a small new testament Bible in his nightstand. I opened it and he received it on December 1, 1967. It must have been a confirmation gift. Funny thing is we never ever spoke about it in our 36 years. Although we had very deep discussions about religion. I remember when the Lutheran Pastor came to visit one day. I am Lutheran and my husband was Catholic though my family was quite involved with the church and his was not. So we were married Lutheran and raised all of the kids Lutheran. That evening the Pastor asked how we dealt with our mixed marriage. This perplexed my hubby and he replied “What do you mean. We are both the same colour”. I laughed. I knew what the Pastor was getting at. Although we are both Christian, the Catholic church denounces us a heretics. That my friends is a whole other blog post.

Of course there are sooooo many ear plugs. That makes me laugh. Apparently I am a loud breather. Plus I like to read when I go to bed. Shuts off the racing mind so I can go to sleep. Its funny though, because if he went to bed alone, he listened to his Ipod. Lovely tunes to send him off to dream land. But if we went to bed at the same time, the ear plugs came out. It was also his way of sending a non verbal reminder that he was out for the night. Don’t start commenting about the book I am reading. He wore ear plugs to concerts, while riding his motorbike, when it was windy outside, or even just resting in his car at lunch time. Yeah, that was a thing. That man loved sleep. I drop the ear plugs back in. I might need then one day.

Here is a box one of the kids decorated. It is full of tie clips, a couple of tie pins, lots and lots of pin souvenirs. Yep, there’s another ear plug. A tiny silver cross. A few bits and bobs which we all have and don’t know where to put them. I love that he saved the box all these years. There is one of the kids baby teeth. The bracelet from when my husband was born. Wow. That is odd. A pair of large dice, a small flat rock and a braided bracelet. He loved those. You’d think I would go through and organize. Get rid of some things, but no. I put the lid back on and place it in the drawer.

There is the ticket stub from the Rolling Stone concert we went to in 1994. Our oldest daughter wanted to go with her new boyfriend and it was being held in Edmonton, three hours away. She was only 14 and so the four of us drove up together. Neither one of us were huge fans of the stones growing up. Funny that he kept one ticket stub his whole life and that was it. It was sitting in a small pile of wallet size pictures of a couple of grandkids as well as our two girls when they were young. As usual, the third kid is missing. Not as many pics of kids as you have more.

He loved to collect cartoons and jokes. I have a whole file folder full of things he printed out and saved. This one is folded and stuck at the back under a pile of old cards. There is a picture of a man and women, angry looking, with their backs turned towards each other. The caption say… “She told me we couldn’t afford beer any more and I would have to quit. Then I caught her spending $65 on makeup. And I asked how come I had to give things up and she didn’t? She said she needed the makeup to look pretty for me. I told her that was what the beer was for. I don’t think she’s coming back!” A miller beer ad. Yeah. He loved a good joke.

There is a tiny book to a Mom. It is one my daughter gave me for my 40th birthday. She was always the one who game me thoughtful things. While all of the short poems are sweet and tender, the inscription from my sweet 13 year old Drew is the most precious. “Dear Mommy. I hope you love your little book and I hope you have a wonderful 40th birthday. I am very proud that you’re my Mom and I’ll love you forever.” It was a wonderful birthday. My husband and kids were in Saskatchewan for a hockey tournament and I had the greatest time home alone. Eating chocolate, a bottle of wine, a book and the hot tub. The best birthday ever! I leave the book since I guess this is my night stand now.

And this is strange. There are two book marks. I can’t imagine him buying them but I don’t remember giving them to him. One is a marriage prayer. The date on the back was the year our second daughter was born. We had lots of little sessions when we were young, talking about our marriage. Bringing up differences. Trying to stop irritants before they blew up. The poem is a beautiful reminder of those early days when we were two young kids trying to live with someone who seemed like a polar opposite. It’s funny though, we became more and more the same person as we aged.

Finally there are two letters from Christmas 2016. We wrote them to each other as our gifts. Still a part of our rituals to share and talk about our wants and needs. He has both letters together, the one I wrote but also the one he wrote to me. It is long but worthy of a few tears. He reminds me that our differences should be celebrated. He says two right gloves don’t fit and a team of pitchers won’t win games. Yet he points out we share a combined vision. After all if two people are rowing in different directions, no one is going anywhere. The tears pour out as I read his words. Telling me he was more content and happy than he had ever been. We only had two Christmases together after that. The letters return to the drawer with everything else.

This is now my night stand. I place my books on it and a few other things. I have the two now. My things are shared between the two night stands,, allowing space for his treasures. The bed is mine too. At first it was hard to sleep on his side. Gradually I only wanted to be there. Closer to him. Closer to his energy. But now, after five years I find I was going back and forth from side to side. Sometimes I sleep right down the middle. I have no side really. It is my bed. And yet, I still call it his side. I doubt that will ever change.

Our bedroom is the room that is most like him for me. He chose the dark blue paint colour. He chose the bed. He chose the night stands. The dresser is one I bought from our daughters boyfriend when he needed money. It is a beautiful antique that was his grandfathers. I told him he could have it back anytime he wanted. That was almost twenty five years ago and I haven’t heard from him. But it is here Max. If you want it. I never wanted a mirror. It is bad feng shui to have a mirror facing the bed. Of course my hubby thinks I am crazy with all of my hippy dippy ways but he was also respectful. And so he brought home an antique mirror which is heavily encased in a wood frame. There are two small doors on the front in order to hide the mirror. It goes beautifully with the room and dresser and it actually deals with my concerns. That was my husband. Thoughtful.

That is the one room I have kept mainly the same. It is the room that feels most like him. It is where I feel him and his presence and energy. But somehow it truly has become my room. My bed. The whole bed. With our special little treasures, his decorating, our life together. All wrapped up in that room. I read there in the night before sleep and I feel the weight of the world fall away. There is a peacefulness that vibes within those four walls. Because he made it that way. He created a very masculine room that also feels soft and feminine. He chose things that made him comfortable yet always allowed for my feelings. There is a large piece of amethyst that was under the foot of our bed for most of our marriage. It is said to promote marital harmony. Another one of my feng shui ideas. He never made fun of that. It was knocked around sometimes while vacuuming yet he just put it back where it belonged. It now resides on the top of my bed headboard on the southwest side of the room. That is where the love, peace and restful energy resides. I think it works. After all those years under the bed promoting marital harmony, I don’t question the magic of amethyst.

It’s funny though. I still feel guilty when I have a snack and get crumbs in the bed. Not guilty enough to stop doing it. But when I do eat in bed, I do it on my side of the bed. There are some things he just wouldn’t forgive. And I respect that.

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