When I looked at my face in the mirror this morning, I knew I had slept soundly, and without moving. The creases on my cheek matched the design of the quilted cover on my bed.
I like to pull the covers up over my shoulder, over my hands, and usually sleep with one hand under my head. Hence the matching quilt lines on my face.
It made me think of my Mom. She was an artist, and a night owl. I understand that kind of behaviour, since I’m the same. There’s something about the quiet and privacy at night that supports creativity.
Daytime peace and quiet has such a greater potential for being interrupted, phone calls, friends dropping by unannounced.
I always knew when Mom had taken a little ‘catch-up’ nap in the afternoon, while the three kids were in school and Dad was at work. There would be the tell tale marks on her face from the chenille spread on their bed.
Long time gone, but not forgotten, love you Mom.