As I made my bed last night, I came to terms with the fact this is likely the last time I’ll sleep on these sheets. These sheets that I brought home from my grandma’s house after she died. These sheets that bring me comfort, no matter how crappy I feel. These sheets, with their crazy flower pattern, remind me that my grandma was spunky, even when she was sleeping.
Over the years, since her death, these sheets have gotten me through a lot of hard times. Seeing the sheets remind me that I come from a line of strong women, they could do anything, and so can I. When the corner ripped as I made my bed last night, I didn’t feel quite so strong anymore, and I got a little teary-eyed.
I can’t throw the sheets out just yet. Instead I’ll lovingly pack them away knowing that if I ever need them they’ll be there for me—just like she would’ve been if she were still alive.