A cherished headboard is repurposed and passed down to a great-grandchild
I watched over her for years, ever since she was a little girl. Ours was an instant connection - she beamed when she realized I was all hers. A bed of her very own that she didn’t have to share with anyone. And a beautiful bed at that. A perfect crown for the mattress, I stood proudly at its head in all my mahogany glory. My solidness was meant to support her and my soft swirls and graceful lines would help her develop a flexible intricate character.
We grew up together. When I saw her quickly tire of toys and books and games, I worried I would also be discarded. But she remained true to me. She shared both the good and bad - sobbing over her father’s death, proudly congratulating herself on graduating high school, and later rejoicing over finding the man of her dreams.
She didn’t take much with her when she moved in with her husband. But I became the centerpiece of her marital bedroom. There were joys - discovering sex, talking to her husband, and cradling her babies. Unfortunately, the marriage didn’t last and I became witness to all the pain, anger, fear and determination that come when dreams die. So for a while it was just the two of us again. While she was everything I needed, I sensed she was lonely.
So I rejoiced when she introduced me to her second house. This marriage required her moving miles away. She left all her furniture behind, except me and the rest of my suite. Unfortunately, the bed frame broke in transit so my footboard was relegated to storage. While I missed what I thought of as my counterpart, all was good as long as she still cherished me. Luckily that marriage was happy and again, I witnessed love and laughter - both between a husband and wife and also between grandparents and their grandchildren.
She mourned hard when the love of her life died and we were alone again. However, this time I sensed a solidness and self-confidence that could stand alone and I understood her decision to leave dating in her past..
We lived together companionably for decades. Again.there were good times and bad - not the emotional extremes of her youth but still things she felt she could only safely share with me
When she broke her hip, her regular mattress was replaced with an adjustable bed that couldn’t be attached to me. The thought of being separated from me was so devastating that her kids attached me to the wall behind the bed. As always, my presence provided her with safety, security and continuity. I was happy to be cherished
We were together until the end. When she drew her last breath, she was cradled by me, her children, and her dog. I will always miss the safety, security and continuity I felt with her. She was as much a part of me as I had been of her.
As the reality of my loss hit me, I worried about my future. No-one wanted a double bed and I wasn’t sure I wanted to watch over someone else. If I went to live with one of her children, I would probably be relegated to a spare bedroom, a remembrance of their mom, not at all treasured. It would be even worse to go to another family with no connection to her and the family we raised together.
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Life looked bleak. But I had underestimated her children who looked for ways to honor her connection to me. Ultimately, they hit on the perfect solution.
A family friend would reunite me with my footboard and repurpose us into a beautiful mahogany storage bench for her only great grandchild. My second life would begin much like my first - a gift to a small child who would treasure me not only for what I would be to her, but also for what I had been for my first love - her great grandmother.
