mum's the word

Kevin thinks he can fix the bed, which is a relief. The bed was handmade by my great-grandfather. I estimate the bed to be about 150 years old. My father used to sleep on the bed when he was a little boy. He is 78. I do not want to tell him that the bed broke, let alone mention what activities were occurring at the time. I don't think that we broke the bed exactly, because the wood was already cracked, but we weren't helping matters. Sometimes it is really hard to live with history. Of course I want to take care of the bed, but it's my bed. It's not just an antique intended to be admired but not used. I've been sleeping on that bed since I was 6. When I moved away from home my mother didn't want me to take it and I had a fit. It's MY bed. After all these years I think ownership is indisputable. I would never sell it. But I won't be afraid to sleep on it either. I feel the same way about my quilts. I use them. When they become worn they are more comfy. When they fall apart I am sad, but I'm glad it served a purpose for many years. If the bed cannot be fixed I will be sad a family heirloom is gone, but I'll be happy that I can redecorate for once instead of having to work around one style. I just don't want to tell my parents. They will not be as forgiving as I am.