The Post-Marriage Bed: Can This Mattress Be Saved?
Every morning when I awoke with a lower back ache, I still denied the truth: This mattress, like my relationship, no longer supported me. So why stay in a bed that sagged under my spine like sorrow? Every night I was sinking deeper into a foam-filled valley, next to an empty gulley. Could this mattress really be saved? I took a first step: check out what's possible.
"Sold!" I said and smiled giddily.
I was quiet as he neatly wrote out the order and delivery date. When he handed the paperwork to me with a warm smile, my eyes met his. I had not noticed how dark and kind his expression until this moment. He concluded the deal by saying almost tenderly, "You'd be surprised how many of these twin...er, single beds I sell these days. It will last you...when other things don't."
As I walked away from the bed department I noted a young couple testing a King size, already arguing over plush or firm. I imagined their bodies adjusting to a young marriage and another body. Surprisingly, I did not envy them. All I wanted was to be home in a new, slim and stable bed -- dreaming alone. I saw myself on this bed for the next four out of ten years sleeping contentedly in monastic poise. If and when I ever do take another mate -- well, there is always the matching twin.
Brenda Peterson is the author of 16 books, including the recent memoir, I Want To Be Left Behind: Finding Rapture Here on Earth, which The Christian Science Monitor named among "Top Ten Best Non-Fiction Books of 2010."