Security Blanket

Already it’s starting to feel autumny. The mornings are misty and the evenings cool. After sixteen years in Arizona Jon’s going to feel the chill.

Today I went shopping. I bought a fleece mattress cover, a 15 tog duvet and a super king-sized quilted bedspread for Jon’s room.

The bedspreads I have are cream and feminine. I asked if they had something for a man’s room. The quilt is black with gold and cream stripes. “He’s behind bars now, and he’ll be under bars with that on,” Dan said.
“That didn’t occur to me when I bought it,” I said annoyed. “You do like it, don’t you?”
“Yes. It’s just the thing. It’s enormous. He can wrap himself up in that. He’ll be as snug as a bug in the long room.”

The long room is the garage conversion that Jon will be sleeping in when he comes home. It’s all ready for him. But I fear he may want to sleep in the box room upstairs, closed in, secure. So many fears, waking in the night thinking he’s still in his cell, nightmares, calling out.

It’s like the feeling you get when you bring home a new baby. Although I know he won’t like me making that comparison. You want everything to be warm and secure and safe. You want to wrap them in your love so nothing can touch them. But he’s a man, thirty-nine years old. How can we protect him from the world, from himself?

Catch the thought. I don’t know what the future holds, so it’s no use worrying about something that hasn’t happened. Let’s get him home first. Live in the NOW!

I’m going to London tomorrow on the train, with my friend Jayne, and Alex who danced with Austin Powers at my sixtieth party. It’s Kathryn’s hen party on Saturday. I’ve packed my silver case with a little black dress, and shoes with diamante straps. It's so exciting. There’s about twenty hens meeting up at the first venue at 5.30pm. I can’t write about where we’re going because it’s a surprise and Kathryn might read it.

Hen Night alert, London!

Copyright © 2007 Barbara Attwood