I was at Yorkdale Mall a few weeks ago and saw two women trying out mattresses. The younger woman -- a daughter perhaps -- bounced from mattress to mattress, saying things like, "I want this one!" and "No! I want this one!" The older woman was laughing.
That's the way I used to select my new bed, if selection came into the picture at all. I am just now having a memory of Don lugging home mattresses rescued after a hotel fire in Invermere, British Columbia (where we were living at the time), one for each child and an extra special springy one for us. I think we slept on that thin little wafer for eleven years, when we finally bought a 'real' Sealy Posturepedic in Ottawa. Even then, we didn't test the thing out, only sitting on the edge and saying, "Wow, at this price it has to be good."
Several months ago, I knew it was time to give up the Sealy, its springs long protruding and poking into my back, its centre of gravity so low I needed a slingshot to get out of bed in the morning. These things wouldn't have troubled me when I was younger and more supple, but as I get older all of it matters. Frankly, it broke my heart to let the Posturepedic go, given all of its buoyant and happy history. Tragically, then, I went off to Sleep Country to test out their mattresses. I wasn't in the showroom five minutes when I shouted to Mary, "A pillow top mattress! That's what they had in all of the fabulous B&Bs! Remember how great my back felt in the morning?" So I bought one.
I have to say that I wasn't quite sure I had made a mistake in the beginning, but by the second week when I was stiffer than a board and my neck had a double S crick in it, I located the warranty, relieved to see that, for a small fee, I could return the pillow top. When I went back to Sleep Country the salesman told me that a person should always check out a prospective bed for at least fifteen minutes apiece, and this time that's what I did. I rolled about on Sealys and Sertas and Simmons and Sleep Numbers until I could stand it no more, realizing in the end that only one of those mattresses made me feel all-over comfortable.
Anyway, yesterday, I was standing at the kitchen sink washing the baking dishes and waiting for the cupcakes to cook, and I was thinking about mattresses -- how symbolic they are; how particular to each person's needs; how when we are young we can sleep on that wafer and feel great in the morning, and how, as we creep up in years, all of the nuances count that much more. And all of this took me to the subject of friendship and how, when I was young, I would choose anyone who crossed my path to be my friend, no matter their natures or the degree of their kindness, generosity, reciprocity, and so on -- and no matter mine. And so as I stood there with suds up to my elbows, it occurred to me that friends are like mattresses.
When you're young you can tolerate anything, no matter how lumpy, reedy, barbed, soft, hard, ill-tempered or unforgiving. But as a person gets older, the whole framework changes. You need time to make your selection. You need even more time to see if the fit will be right. You need to be brave in the event that you have to return it. And you need to be patient. You need to know that in some cases there might be a long period of time when the mattress will feel perfect and then, all of a sudden, it won't. You also need to know that a mattress can surprise you, energizing and refreshing you day after day, lasting throughout your whole lifetime.
I had a moment of longing as I stood in the kitchen. I thought of that mother and daughter and of the days when I was young and as lively, bouncing from mattress to mattress and, for the moment, happy with them all. But then I said to myself -- at my age now, which is better? A dozen dozen beds that feel good for ten minutes, or a handful of mattresses that are comfortable, reliable, solid, beautifully formed, giving, forgiving, and perfectly attuned to my body and mind?
This morning I slept in a little later than usual, basking in the comfort of my recently purchased mattress. Consumer Reports says it isn't well rated, but in my life, given my needs, it's perfect for me.
Goldilocks was very tired by this time, so she went upstairs to the bedroom. She lay down in the first bed, but it was too hard. Then she lay in the second bed, but it was too soft. Then she lay down in the third bed and it was just right. ~ The Brothers Grimm
