Pillow Talk

I start most of my days with a phone call to my mom. I never take for granted that many of my friends have lost their moms, and I am grateful every day when she picks up the phone, singing her “hello”. On this particular day, I knew the answer to my question, “What are you doing today?” Monday was sheets day. Just like the mailman that delivers the mail in rain, snow, sleet, and hail, the sheets get washed on Mondays regardless of illness, season, or mood. But more importantly, it was a beautiful day so she added, “I’m airing out my pillows.” For those of you who have never done this, it requires you to take your bed pillows and lay them outside, particularly in the sun, for a few hours. Just the idea of watching her gather the pillows overflowing in her arms and putting them out brings a huge smile to my face.
As I have aged, I have begun to recognize that there are reasons other than a crisp, clean scent to throw those pillows outside on a warm day.
They are our secret keepers as we tell our deepest fears and desires during “pillow talk” with a loved one. Whispering in the dark room into your pillow is the same as locking these thoughts away in a vault. The pillow also puts your head in the exact position to face a loved one and stare into their eyes. When life gets hard, we can count on your pillow, our stalwart friend, to catch our tears when we quietly express our pain. We know that our trusted pillow, just like a trusted friend, will never betray us.
​So on the first sunshiny day, I grabbed all the pillows in my arms and arranged them on the deck furniture. They seemed a bit unrulily to carry and a little heavier than I expected. I checked on them throughout the afternoon as I would a visiting friend. And each glance outside found them exactly where I left them. But maybe they were different.