Thursday, November 19, 2009

Once Upon a Mattress

A few weeks ago, I purchased a new mattress for my bed. I had recently bought one for the bed in my guest room and I decided I deserved equal treatment.

Mattresses come in all sizes, variations in quality, differences in firmness, and a nice variation in price. The salesman who was helping me make a decision emphasized the importance of durability in choosing a mattress. He was proud that his store’s policy was to guarantee that the mattress would be in good condition after five years or your money would be refunded, or you would get a replacement.

At 95 years of age, I would have preferred a guarantee of my survival to use the mattress - I didn’t even consider the idea of being replaced.

My age, however, didn’t seem to get in the way of my selecting a high quality mattress, at an exorbitant price. Evidently I still cling to the belief that the best is the cheapest in the long run. I think, too, that age has heightened my sense of entitlement - that I deserve the best.

Although I looked forward to the delivery of the mattress, so that I could enjoy its comfort, I feared that my sleep would be disturbed by concern about the hole in my budget that this purchase had made. But no, I had no such concern.

As I drifted off to sleep, my thoughts focused on the virginal twin sized bed I had slept in growing up in my parents home.

I smiled as I recalled the squeaky iron bed I had recently slept in at my college reunion - had I really slept on a bed like that for four years in my turbulent youth?

The king sized bed I had shared with my husband loomed large in my dreamlike state. It took up most of the space, deservedly, so we both thought, in the bedroom of our first apartment. After his death, I bought a queen sized bed. The king had died, but not my expectation that there would be someone else to share my bed.

When I made this recent purchase I chose a full size mattress - no return to the virginal twin size bed of my youth, but evidently the expectation of sharing my bed was no longer there.

Interestingly, after a few weeks I am glad I bought a new mattress - the cost is forgotten, I’m enjoying its comfort, but I feel a sense of regret that I did not buy a queen sized one. Even without a partner I evidently still want to feel like a queen!

1 comment:

Marc said...

But, Mom, you ARE a queen. Your are our queen.
Love, Marc