I changed the sheets on two beds today, thinking of Mom. I helped her make her own bed several times toward the end of her life. It’s a big job for me and I knew Mom’s bed was especially problematic to make because the mattress was down inside the frame enough, if you wanted to tuck, which my Mom always did, you were forced to really lift up the edges of that very heavy mattress.
I’m glad I had those moments with Mom now. It really brings her presence close to me every time I make a bed now! And while the task is never fun, there is a certain pleasure it now brings to me.
My Mom would never just passively let me make the bed. She always took part. If Johnny’s around, he always helps me too….or it’s me helping him… We don’t tuck our sheets, though. Johnny prefers it that way. I don’t think my Mom would disapprove. She was more a “to each their own” sort of philosopher.
I was fortunate enough to have my Mom’s approval for most of my life. That’s worth more than gold and I do miss having that in my life now. It comes down to what I believe. I can know that she would approve of me, and I can believe that she still does, somehow. But the further past the event of her passing, the more I cave in from the absence of that real, tangible love and approval my Mom gave to me during her life.
But it’d be a poor way to honor that gift by falling apart after it is no longer readily accessible. And I have to feel sorry for those that don’t have the approval of their Mother. Since time began, I’m sure there have been such and it’s only more prevalent now that our population is so large.
So I have an advantage and it would be foolish not to play that for all it’s worth and in so doing, I will honor my Mom’s life. No pressure. Maybe all it means is that I’m blessed to be able to find pleasure in simple things, like making the bed.
There’s winners and there’s losers, they ain’t no big deal, cause a simple man pays his bills with pills and thrills that kill.