Gunmetal Gray

When I returned to Florida after Ruth’s accident in September of 2022, the bed wasn’t made. It was stripped down to the mattress pad.  Ruth had a habit of changing the sheets just before we headed North or South, so we had a clean bed when we arrived. It was the first time I was faced with such a dilemma. I searched the shelves in the bedroom but didn’t find anything.  The dresser drawers were empty too.  If memory serves me, I slept without sheets that first night and went shopping the next day.

I know nothing of thread count, but I have heard of Egyptian cotton.  I don’t know what it means, but I’ve heard of it.  I went to the Beals Outlet and looked for a new set.  I looked for color rather than thread count.  I ran my hand over the fabric and bought a set of gunmetal gray.  They looked manly and I was getting ready to live alone.

When we first got married, Ruth’s parents hosted a coffee and cake reception in their home.  It was a nice affair but very simple.  Lots of people came and we received a mountain of gifts. We registered for gifts at Hudsons and similar stores even though we eloped.  We knew we were having receptions in both Plainwell and the suburbs of Detroit, so we registered for things we knew we’d use.  Sets of sheets were on the list.  

Ruth knew I wasn’t a fan of flowery sheets and pillowcases, and I felt the same about blankets, comforters, curtains, and draperies. Honestly, I never really understood the difference between curtains and draperies, except that curtains were usually lightweight, and draperies were heavier and more formal. They served a similar purpose but were used differently. Curtains for kitchens, draperies for more formal spaces like dining and living rooms.  

Either way, we didn’t register for anything with flowers.  We opted for stripes and solids.  Still, two college friends went rogue and gave us floral sheets—one set blue, the other yellow. Why those two sets stuck in my memory, I’ll never know, but they did. And we used them.

I don’t know why but I flashed back to the two sets when I went looking to buy a new set in the fall of 2022.   I washed the new before I put them on the bed because I’d heard that was a good thing to do.  I didn’t know where they had been so freshly laundered sheets sounded like a good option.  After I made the bed, I decided to wash everything else that we’d left in the clothes basket where we stored our soiled clothes.  

The top of the basket had the shorts and tee shirts that we typically wore to bed.  There was also a pair of jeans, some socks, assorted odds and ends, and at the very bottom, the set of sheets I’d been looking for.   They have a subtle gray and white stripe, and I still use them today.

You’re probably wondering why I remember all that.  It’s both a blessing and a curse.  I recall random things from random days for no apparent reason.  They’re just stuck there and every once in a while, one pops open.

I’ve been thinking about my Michigan condo and what I might bring down to Florida after I sell it.  The house here is full and there’s really no reason to move anything.  Ruth and I went through everything when we relocated from our lake house to the condo in the fall of 2020.  We purged several things and took pictures of some of the forgotten treasures of our youth. I haven’t looked at any of the pictures since they were taken.  We’d been married almost fifty years when we made the move.  You collect a lot of things in that amount of time.

I’ve been making a mental list of the things I may want to bring to Florida.  There’s nothing definite or scientific in my thought process.  I’ve been going room by room remembering what may be where and realizing it will be difficult to decide what goes and what stays.  You can’t move 3,800 square feet of condo furnishings into a 2,000-foot home that’s already full.  It simply won’t fit.  And I just don’t need it.  That may be why I’m drifting back to flowers.  There may be some flowery what-nots and do-dads that need to be left behind.  They’re simply not my style.

There aren’t many but there are a few. There’re definitely no sheets and pillowcases.  Ruth knew better than that, but there a few plant-based decorative items scattered about.  She used twigs and branches because she like their simple lines.  I’ll leave the Michigan ones in Michigan and may purge a few in Florida.  

I’ll keep the pottery and wooden bowls we collected during our travels.  They’re manly enough.  I may even keep a basket or two.  I’ll opt for the handmade ones we watched be crafted.  There’re only a couple of those.  I’ll keep all the paintings she created.  I’ve already started a collection in my office/closet. Ther’s a lot of wall space so the collection can grow.  I’ll cut down on clothes if need be.

I don’t recall any paintings of flowers, but if there are any, I’ll keep those too.  I’ll let them stay even if they’re not my favs.  If she painted it, it meant something to her at the time, so I’ll honor that memory.  There’s one picture in particular that I’ll hang in a place of honor.  She drew it with pen and ink and later painted over it with watercolors.    It’s an old wooden door and my favorite piece of her work. It’s in the back hallway leading to our Michigan garage.  I’ll hang it in a place of honor with Michael’s dot picture and some writings from David and Brady.  I look at them every day.  Unless you step into my closet/office, you may never see it.

If you ask nicely, I’ll let you take a look.  It’s just a simple door but I love it.  You probably will too.