Wednesday, October 15, 2008
My room. A simple statement but it means so much to me. My room is my bedroom. It is my oasis. It is where I escape from the world. My room is what I have worked for these many years. Growing up, I shared a bed with my two younger brothers. My Mother tells us that she would put me and my brothers as babies in a communal basket. For a year or two when I was nine years old I shared a bed with my Uncle Sam. At that time my Uncle Sam was a teenager and still going to school. His mom and dad has passed on (my paternal grandparents) and he was living with us until he finished school. I could not wait until I had my own bed. I finally achieved that goal when I was 12 years old and received a fold away bed for Christmas. I still shared a room with my two younger brothers but I finally had my own bed. The summer of 1958 I finally achieved my dream, my very own bedroom. My parents had built a small ranch house (1,100 square feet) with three bedrooms. My parents had the master bedroom (such as it was), my brothers had another bedroom and I had the small bedroom in the front of the house. Nirvana! Alas, I was only to have that bedroom for about a year and a half. After graduating from high school I joined the Army. In the Army I didn't have to share a bed but I did share a bedroom. It was called "the barracks." About a year into my term of enlistment I did get out of the barracks into a private bedroom. I was asked to be assistant platoon sergeant (mainly on my ability to get the guys to clean the barracks) and I shared a bedroom with the platoon sergeant, Cliff Taylor. Almost there again. Cliff was a great roommate because he was rarely in our room. Either he was out chasing women or visiting his home in Georgia. After the Army, I went home for a short period of time to my own bedroom. However, I didn't stay there too long. I moved to Pittsburgh for three months and had a one room efficiency apartment. Not really my own bedroom since my "bedroom" was in a side parlor of an old Victorian house. After leaving Pittsburgh, I returned home and got an apartment in Coatesville. It was a two room apartment. I had my own bedroom. When I met and moved in with Bill (my partner), I was back to sharing a bed again. Nope. Uh huh. Didn't work. Back to my own bed. I just can't sleep with anybody. I need my own room. I need my space. That is my bedroom. My space, my oasis, my Shangri-la. This is where I watch TV (when I can stay awake), pay bills, read, and take my daily nap. Oh how I love taking my daily nap. I call it a nap but it is probably more like transcendental meditation. I lie down on my bed around 2 or 3 in the afternoon. I read a bit until I get sleepy, then I drift off into another wonderful world. A world of peace and happiness. Dreams are frequent. I don't remember what the dreams are about but I do know there are no nightmares. The only nightmares occur when I am awake. If I am fortunate enough, one day I will lie down for a nap and I will dream the ultimate dream. The Big Bedroom in the Sky.