Bed Hopping

This morning, the first of a new year, I started the day by changing my sheets. As I was pulling the old ones off, it occurred to me Nate’s side was unused and still had its neat laundry folds. I studied his side of the bed, pillow still freshly ironed, and all of a sudden I felt very alone. He is completely gone. Permanently. We will never sleep together again. I just didn’t know what to do next.

When Nate and I got married, like all young couples with togetherness on their minds, we couldn’t wait to sleep together. But we did wait. When we finally got married, Nate was a second year law student, and I taught school in a small town. Between us we didn’t have much, but one reason we took the third floor walk-up was its Murphy bed, the kind that folded down from an upright position behind a wide closet door.

This bed had metal bands instead of springs and a mattress flat enough to be a dog bed, but it meant we wouldn’t have to buy a bed. Never mind that it was only twin size. Our thought was, “The closer the better.” We envisioned ourselves cuddled up in the hammock-like middle, and it was a perfect picture.

A few months after we married, we found ourselves the recipients of some beautiful bedroom furniture sent by a college pal looking for a place to “store” it. It was made of Australian satinwood, each piece a work of art. We were grateful to move up in the bed-world to a full size bed and spent 36 years sleeping on it.

But as the decades rolled by, good sleep became more important yet more difficult to get. Our full size bed began to feel small, especially to me, since Nate got three-fourths and I got one-fourth. Then one day out of the blue he said, “How about we buy a bigger bed?”

Not wanting to split up the beautiful bedroom set we were still “storing”, I fought his suggestion until his habit of running his toes along the bottom of my feet started to get to me.

“A bit of love during the night,” he’d say.

“A bit of torture while I’m trying to sleep,” I’d say.

In the end, the satinwood bed was dismantled and put away. For our 60th birthdays which came together, we bought a king size bed. The morning after we spent our first night on it, Nate’s laughter woke me up. He was standing in the doorway with his coffee mug, getting a kick out of something.

“What?” I asked.

“You,” he said. “You’re so close to the edge, you look like you might fall off.”

It’s hard to break old habits. Eventually, though, I claimed my share of our glorious bed, and there was still room to spare. We agreed it was the best gift ever, and after that, sleeping was easy.

When we moved to the Michigan cottage, the tiny stairway with its low ceiling nearly eliminated our bed entirely but the movers finally made it work. Then when we learned about Nate’s cancer, we determined to stay in our beloved bed as long as possible. Stairs, however, quickly became a risk for him, and wisdom dictated bringing in a hospital bed on the main floor.

His last 17 nights he slept in that second choice bed, but as with each of his losses, Nate didn’t complain. He acknowledged the benefits of an undulating mattress to help his skin, rails to keep him secure and the absence of steps in his routine. He never once said, “I wish I was in our big bed upstairs.”

I wish I was as mature as he was in accepting what cannot be changed about life. He accepted the misery of his last weeks as what God had willed for him and never asked why. Although Nate sometimes fought the circumstances of his life, it’s interesting that when faced with the worst possible scenario, that of life and death, he surrendered. He’d met a challenge he couldn’t conquer, and he recognized it. I believe it goes against men to be dependent, but Nate accepted having to become more and more dependent on those around him. Ultimately he accepted dependence on God alone.

This morning I didn’t change the sheets after all. I just flipped them. Nate’s side is now on mine, and my side is on his.

”I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. My God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 4:13,19)

5 thoughts on “Bed Hopping

  1. Should this be my experience Margaret, I am not looking forward to sleeping alone. Now when Bruce goes away I sleep on the couch in the family room. How matureis that? Tender thoughts and prayers for you this day!

  2. Marni, Dad has developed the system of sleeping on one side of the bed one week and the other the next, since Helen is gone. He says its so he doesn’t have to do wash as often or that the mattress will wear evenly. But sometimes especially right after she was gone I think it made him feel closer to her. Praying for you

  3. Oh, dear Margaret, I am so sorry for the arresting aloneness you experienced this morning changing your sheets.
    While clicking onto your blog this morning, I realized there were many more entries I had not yet read. In fact, I am embarrassed to reveal that I think I missed the entire month of November. Whatever the technology equivalent is to illiteracy and innumeracy, I am it. What a total doofus. (I know what you’re thinking- wow… she taught my children… huh). Anyways, I think I was in December and realized I could click at the very top with the << titled blog- so I worked my way chronologically backwards to November 1. I can only assume the Lord blinded my eyes from this previous for some unknown purpose and is not a reflection on my intelligence or lack thereof. I will forever be sorry that my name is not in the guest book- I do not know how in the world I missed knowing of Nate's illness and death. Since I know you prayed specifically about who would attend those services, I can only conclude the Lord had some other appointed time and way in which I could try and be an encouragement to you.
    But as I was reading all of those November and December blogs, over and over it was apparent how you were facing your "firsts." Some of them were full frontal assaults, firsts you were very aware of ahead of time and had to make a decision about how you were going to handle them. And handle them you did- with courage and bravery and grace- you stepped into them armed with the conviction the Lord was going ahead of you and surrounding you.
    But this morning's first got you on your flank side and came in by stealth. So I want to tell you- flipping your sheets? Remarkable response to a paralyzing moment. Maybe you don't feel it, but heaven applauded that moment of choice.
    I fretted later over my blog prayer for you yesterday as I considered the instruction of Matthew 5 to go into my closet… but then I thought of David's Psalms, many of them prayers really, and realized they have been very public for a few centuries.
    I thought it would be an encouragement for you to hear from time to time what is actually being called out on your behalf. Today it is simply this: "Lord in the emotional struggles, train Margaret's hands for these battles so that her arms might bend a bow of bronze. Gird her with strength and fashion her feet for high places. Give her the shield of salvation and uphold her with Your strong right hand. Enlarge her steps under her so that her feet do not slip. Though war arise against her, in spite of it give her confidence." Psalm 18:32-36; 27:3.
    Sending love,
    Terry

  4. 1 Timothy 5:5
    The widow who is in need and left all alone puts her hope in God and continues night and day to pray and to ask God for help.

    I pray that you feel the closeness of God’s arms around you during the times that you feel the most alone. Much love, TLc

  5. A friend sent me a link to your blog and I’m so glad she did. What a precious post. I was married to my first husband for 39 years and remember the first night I slept alone. I think I cried myself to sleep. You will be in my thoughts and prayers…