Thursday, December 21, 2006

A Warm Bed for Sleeping


When writing a daily blog, one need to constantly come up with content. So I will again use the recent power failure as fodder. With the power out, one breaks their routine and this brings things to mind that are stored deep within our memories.

Our fireplace doesn’t heat our house very well at all. Especially with the bedroom sixty feet North and up a flight of stairs away from the fire place. When we called it a day and went to bed we felt how cold a bed could be when there is no heat. Though it didn’t take long to heat up with body heat, it was indeed cold upon entry.

This reminded me of my mother telling me when I was a child getting into bed on a cold night about what her father did for her. He would heat up a stone or a brick by the fire, and then he would wrap it in a felt cloth and place it under her covers at the foot of her bed. My mother, then a skinny little girl living in the working class Irish section of Patterson, NJ, said she felt like royalty getting into her warmed bed.

The photo above is of my mother when she was seven years old. My mother is now 85 years old. I am still carrying the story she told me of her life in the late 1920s and of a fathers love for his little girl. This story is with me every time I climb into a bed that is less than warm.

9 Comments:

Blogger Mel said...

She's lovely.
I have a few faves of my mother, the best of which is the one where she's standing in her trim little A-line dress, one hand flaring the skirt out to the side, head cocked, hair nicely curled, all 17 years of her, knowing she's young and pretty and charming.
I will always remember and think of my mom whenever I drink a Pepsi - her beverage of choice.

11:35 AM  
Blogger Donna said...

My mother used to heat up water in the teakettle and fill up a hot-water bag for my feet at night. I loved that so much, on a cold night.

12:56 PM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

She was lovely and still is. She is in Hawaii for the winter where she doesn't have to even think of a cold bed.

Donna, that's what my mother did for me as well, but I didn't include that part in the article because I wanted the stone to be the focus of warmth.

3:41 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow. Are we all talking about the same mother? I too had the hot water bottle at my feet... and my mother also chose Pepsi... this sounds so familiar...

love,

anon

7:22 PM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Love Anon, are you sure you're not thinking of Holly?

10:08 PM  
Blogger Mom of Three said...

First Communion, saints be praised!

It's those little nuances that make us feel loved. We don't have to be wealthy to feel like a princess, we just need a father who pays attention.

Very sweet story!

11:35 PM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Thanks Mo3, and from what I've been reading your kids are pretty well covered in parental love. They will have memories like this as well.

5:34 AM  
Blogger RobbKidd said...

I feel for that 85 year old woman. She can never get comfortable after the temperatures drops below a certain level. Her mind has been programmed into believing it is cold once it reaches that level. Deep down inside she is still a little girl waiting for her father to tell her it is safe and warm. So while the world continues to revolve around she follows the programming of society telling her it is cold. The cold is all in our heads...

8:05 PM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Ahh, but that's OK, Robb, it helps her get away from that miserable state. Nice photo though, eh?

6:07 AM  

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