Grandma’s Double-Bed

The depth of love shared by these elderly is simply, beyond imagination, translated…

My grandparents had been sleeping in separate rooms since long ago.

Back then, grandma just became, a grandmother, she was staying at home, looking after the grandchildren her children left behind. She’d accompanied the two young grandchildren to sleep on three Japanese wooden flooring, left grandpa to sleep on a double bed all on his own.

illustration from the papers online…

The three Japanese style mattresses were big enough for the three, but the double-bed couldn’t squeeze all four of us in, and so, grandpa seemingly became, the extra man, the one who’d been, exiled. And so, he’d slowly, learned, to live life solo, with wide open room; he’d listened to his favorite Japanese music, played his own favorite golf, and, slept on the double-bed, until it became, a single bed, became really comfortable, alone, on his own. As for grandma, she’d held one of our hands, and with one more grandchild on her back, or kept a close eye on the child who’s sleeping in the crib, while watching over the one who’s, running around in the house, she’d become, caged in by the Japanese straw mattress. She’s the grandmother of the house, also, a wife who’d, been, forgotten, and, the double-bed drifted, farther, and farther away from her.

Actually in the past, it would get really warm and cozy, on the double bed which grandma and grandpa had, shared. In the winters, there’d been a soft red fuzzy blanket lain on the bed, and, wrapped around them both, easy to fall asleep in. My mother said, that the blanket was a dowry from my great grandmother to my grandmother. The red large blanket was a symbol of how close my grandparents are, to one another, and, they’d, shared a bed, underneath, that warm blanket year after year, after year. On the blanket, there was, a doe looking back, with that doubt in its eyes. Don’t know, if to grandma, if it’d, meant that the doe was, longing for the past better times, or, was it, waiting, for the present to, get turned, into the past?

But, not long thereafter, the double bed was, replaced with an electric bed, to help grandpa who’d slowly become, immobilized to get out of bed, as for grandma, she’d, returned back, to sleeping on the Japanese style mattress. The two beds were uneven, like how grandma had, always, steadied herself, in squatting position, steadily, supported, grandpa’s gigantic, but shaking body.

And, grandma started, sleeping, next to grandpa, on this, double bed that’s unlike the beds they’d shared in the past.

Every morn, grandma would help grandpa out for a walk from the bed, to the street entrance, and, each and every day, grandpa became, slower, and slower, and slower, and the entrance of the alley became, farther, farther, and farther from where he can get to, don’t know when, grandpa was only able to, walk to the next door neighbor’s home. Grandma had, taken advantage of the time when grandpa napped, to walk a very long way to the marketplaces, to buy fresh beef, to cook for grandpa, and, she’d worried, that the beef sold from the close by marketplaces weren’t fresh enough, so, she’d walked, farther, farther, and farther, to get the beef.

After grandpa passed away, my mother worried that grandma might get lonely, and offered to sleep with her, and grandma would always fall silent at mom’s request. Once, my mother mentioned it again, and, grandma stated abruptly, “Someone told me, that she’d dreamed about her deceased husband, by sleeping in the bed they’d shared. I’d gone, and slept on your father’s bed, but, he’d, never come to me in my dreams.”

Turns out, after grandpa died, grandma went to sleep on his bed, hoping that he could come to her in her dreams. If he’d come back, then, she’d finally, have the bed that they’d once shared back again. The company of her offspring, still paled by comparison, to the companionship of her beloved husband.

getting used to the sound of one another’s breaths…not my photo…

Grandma wanted to find a reason, “But, maybe it’s because I’d, moved the bed, that is why your father couldn’t return back to me.” She will, keep on waiting, until that bed they’d once shared, is shared by them both again, even if, it was, just for a very short moment in time.

And so, this, is how deep the love is, between these two elderly, they’d lived their whole lives together, and now, the husband had, died, and, the wife couldn’t adapt, and, it’s her way, of grieving for the loss, of her beloved husband, and these things need time to resolve.

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