The bed was too big
When baby had to move into his own bed, Mother changed the sleeping arrangements. Sis and I got big beds. I protested that they were far too big for us and would take up too much space. Mother said that these beds would have to last until we were grown, that eventually we would take up this much space and she was going to get new beds for us only this once. (Mother wasn't a woman of many words, but when she spoke her mind, she did so exhaustively.) So there it was, the challenge of growing up, fit into neat frameworks.
Going to bed that night, I felt lost, out of place, like there had been a mistake. I huddled into a corner like it was my orbit; and didn't dare stretch my legs into space. I clung to my pillow. The silky cover felt comforting and I got a strange pleasure out of running a pillow corner over my finger nails, one by one. Then my fingertips felt tingly and warm like they had come alive. I mused over the fact that my pillow could easily have slept two little girls, even tried it out and pretended to be two. Sleeping on the left, sleeping on the right, quite possible, but oh, the legs, my legs, I had to roll up into a ball and take up the width of my bed and leave its length to the future. *** Every night when I closed my eyes, I had this strange vision of a tiny sphere hovering a few inches above a narrow mountain path. As it was very
small, it wasn't making much headway - if I ignored it, that is. However, focusing on it made it approach and grow in size to a grey ball, inevitably rolling towards me until it overwhelmed me with its impact and passed right through me standing there, frozen in a narrow place with nowhere to go. On my right steep rocky mountains, on my left gaping chasms, the tiny bitty ball turned magically huge. It was a fearsome thing to watch, although it had been my own will power that set it in motion. But I learnt that – though face- and shapeless – it was neither good or evil. The impact hit me in the stomach like an ocean wave, took me off my feet, only to gently place me down again. I couldn't ever turn around to see where it had gone. After it had rolled through me, I was at peace. Irma Walter 2010