Perhaps my bed would seem an odd refuge as I am an extrovert and am generally rejuvenated via wine, conversation and art. Recently, in a counseling session, I was compared to a lightning bolt. I doubt beds are fond of lightning bolts, due to fire and whatnot. And honestly, I somewhat despise sleep; we have love/hate relationship since I rarely snooze straight through the night, tossing with deeply personal and generally overly emotional dreams or your average check-the-clock-every-49-minutes insomnia. With littles, at least with my littles, we’re lucky if sleep is uninterrupted once or twice a week. But you know to whom my bed is a refuge? My kids. Bad dream? Sleep with mom. Sick? Snuggle up with mom. Sister won’t be quiet and go to sleep? Go to mom. Cold? Mom. Thirsty? Mom. Need to poddy? Mom. Want Mom? Mom. (Quick disclaimer: Jeff is an awesome,,awesome, awesome night-time Dad – well all-the-time Dad. But let’s be honest and say that at night even though Jeff is willing and often does much of the work, the girls’ prefer Mama. Feel free to comment if you disagree, Babe.) Speaking of Jeff, our bed is also a refuge for Jeff. He needs a lot of sleep to function and without ample time in those navy flannel sheets, he’s no good come the middle of the day. He snuggles up with his three (yes, three) pillows and quickly enters ZZZZzzzzville. I guess I’ve never stopped and thought about how much this chunk of fabric, wood and springs supports our family (pun not intended, but welcomed). It makes me wonder, what else is an essential part of our rhythms that I take for granted? How many people don’t have a decently new, warm and dependable place to rest their tired bodies at the end of the day? All from a bed.
Where is your daily refuge? What is a place of centrality for you or your family?
Magdalene A.R. Mastin 