Sleeping in the Valley
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I am no longer sleeping in the valleys and hills
of the old mattress I shared with him
sliding into the depressions left by his heavier body
and struggling to roll back from the sagging middle
to the edge where I could clutch the side
in case he rolled over and pushed me out.
The new mattress is firm and even
with no lumps or valleys or surprising springs
that pop into my back, forcing me to realign myself
and try to make it through another night.
I can sleep on either side
in the middle
or across
with only a small cat to push out of the way.
I sleep well. I sleep deeply. There are no
sonorous sounds or grimaces of pain
from the other side.
Only quiet.
I no longer sleep in the valley of his pain, his needs, his dependence on me.
I no longer jump up to get ice or medicine or pillows.
I sleep.
Deeply. Peacefully. Quietly.
Alone.
I am grateful to be no longer sleeping in the valley
But I miss it
Not because I enjoyed the lumpy hills or errant springs of the life we led.
But because I slept in the valleys
with him.
Sleeping in the Valley
Beautiful reflection -- and good for you! I've slept on a memory foam mattress that seemed to remember too much and kept me in those valleys. I've slept with a man with restless leg disorder that kicked me across the bed in his sleep. (I got out and crept back to bed on my husband's side until he kicked his way out of the bed.) On a practical side, a new mattress and peaceful sleep without interruption is perfect. But I know your heart misses him -- and sharing a mattress with him before you had valleys and his pain and suffering and need for you. Take care.