Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Sheets

In the laundry room, I ran into a new neighbor who had acquired her apartment as many of my neighbors have—she inherited it at the death of her grandparents.

She was folding sheets.

“Those are beautiful sheets,” I admired. They were crisp and white, with embroidered details.

“Aren’t they?” she smiled. “Let me tell you about these sheets.”

My neighbor had cared for her grandmother in her final years; her grandfather had died a few years before.

One afternoon, her grandmother asked to be helped from her bed so that the sheets could be washed. She wanted to sit in the living room until the sheets were clean and the bed made again.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in the bed?” her granddaughter asked. “I can make the bed with other sheets.”

“Oh no,” the grandmother replied. “I don’t have any other sheets.”

She told her granddaughter that when she and her husband fled Germany during the war, they carried only one trunk.

Among the contents were the sheets on her bed. The sheets my neighbor was now folding.

“So for fifty plus years of marriage, they had only one set of sheets?” I asked.

“That’s right,” my neighbor nodded. “My mother was conceived in these sheets. And now I sleep in them.”

“Incredible.”

I hoped that my neighbor had not noticed my own wash.

As we talked, I had folded two loads comprised entirely of sheets. Sheets for my kids beds, sheets for my bed, sheets for my sex parties.

So many sheets.




6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Jefferson!
D.Med girl again.. I'll just sign C from now. Anyway, You should write a book or something. Your writing is so beautifully done, and your insights are truely poetic. You are the perfect combination of passion and wisdom. Again thanks for taking me a away from my finals and this stupid little town in the midwest.
~C

Jefferson said...

Thanks C. It's nice to have a letter of the alphabet to associate with your kind words.

And you know, "C" is right up there in the top three letters.

As for a book, well, may that prayer travel from your mouth to Judith Regan's ear.

So this blog helps you to procastinate? That is only fair: this blog owes it's existence to procrastination.

Nice to give back to the muse.

Anonymous said...

Without the art of procrastination, I would be as brainwashed as the next big ten scholar. Uni education is over-rated... You learn a lot more from real world expirences (which tend to only be available when one is procrastinating) For example... I am an opera singer.. tell me how darwinian med. is going to help me at all... Now character study on a role like Salome.. could be fun. And as for the letter C .. well my name begins with a C... terribly orig. I know. :)

Jefferson said...

Oh my word. A singing book worm.

C . . . welcome home.

Viviane said...

Correction - another singing bookworm.

Jefferson said...

That's what I'm saying, Viviane.

I'm ordering armbands and handlebar moustaches.

We have a quartet of singing bookworms, at least.