Tall, short, deep, wide

If you've visited any historical homes, you've probably seen the beds of past eras and replicas or the actual ones where famous people slept, presumably comfortably. although I remember seeing the bed where Lincoln died and reading how he had to be laid diagonally across it. Last spring I went shopping for a new mattress. I was clear on what I did want (firm) and did not want (pillow topper) and thought my knowledge of bedding was up-to-date. But I soon discovered I had missed something important. Mattresses and box springs have gotten bigger. Not just from full to queen to king, but higher or deeper, however you want to look at it. From my 5-foot perspective, it's taller. It was difficult for me to even try out some floor samples. Once I made my decision I choose the option of a 2 inch bunky board instead of a box spring so I wouldn't need to take a running leap to jump into bed every night.

On my recent vacation I discovered that the trend in tall beds goes beyond the showroom. I was barely able to fall onto the bed in our first two hotel rooms. When we got to the vacation home we were renting for four nights, I saw that I would need a step stool to get into the bed in the two main bedrooms. I settled for the bottom of a bunk bed. It was perfectly comfortable, and actually much easier to get in and out of than the previous hotel beds. When we moved to the next vacation home where it was my turn for the master suite, I had another surprise. There is something larger than a king, and this particular one was positioned in a huge wooden frame with an emorous sleigh headboard so big that the bed had to stand away from the wall.

Yes, I can chuckle and hope you did as well, but there a purpose here. A little research indicates that over the last 100 years we human beings have gotten taller, well, bigger overall, so I get that it makes sense that mattresses have to keep up with that growth. I also get the idea of luxury, but as I looked at pictures of sodden mattresses at the end of driveways, in trees, floating down the street, I wonder if they need to be so big that if they had a door, they could be a room. I may not be a great environmentalist, but there is an issue here that needs some collective consideration. 

Marilyn

Bearing witness

As we rounded a bend in Dixie National Forest in southern Utah two weeks ago, we saw that two cars had stopped on the shoulder and folks were hurrying over to where a third car was off the road in deep brush. It was facing the wrong way and some smoke was coming from under the hood. Despite that drama, I was focused on the silver van that had been tailgating for several miles through the winding 2-lane road as we climbed and then started descending a fir tree covered mountain.

On Saturday, I approached a busy intersection and saw volunteers standing in the middle of the street. Once I was close enough to read the orange lettering on their bright yellow t-shirts, I recognized the annual Knights of Columbus drive. As I turned right, I wondered if in this day and age, that type of fundraising is relevant or effective. That night, as my concert companion and I were walking the four blocks back to my car, after talking about the highlights of what we had seen and heard, our conversation turned to the topic of aging, walking and falling. And then, her foot managed to hit the crack in the sidewalk wrong, and down she went.

As I thought about these three experiences, I realized that it didn't matter so much if those volunteers passed out all of their tootsie rolls or raised signifiant funds. What was more important was that they were bearing witness, they were standing up to help those with disabilities. While I did not see the car go off the road, I will bear witness that I am still bothered that I could not safely stop to help. I feel like the character in the story of the Good Samaritan who hurried by the beaten and wounded. So, I utter thanks for those who did stop and hope there were no serious injuries. The other night, as my friend fell in slow motion and I was unable to intervene, no one else witnessed the accident. But soon a young woman walked up and asked if everything was okay. Here was one grey haired woman lying facedown on the grass and another kneeling next to her, so, no, everything was not okay. I said we were discussing calling 9-1-1, so she wished us luck and continued on her way. Unfortunately, there is a broken humerus involved.

I wonder if my tailgater even saw the accident or if the young woman from the other night has given a second thought to the incident. I wonder if the next time I - or you - have the opportunity to intervene, we will have the compassion, presence of mind, and even courage to act. I sure hope so.

Marilyn