In This Bed
... lay Tormod, naked, under a white cloud of goose down, his hand resting on his young wife's breast. ~ A four-minute tale ~
In this bed, lay Tormod, naked, under a white cloud of goose down, his hand resting on his young wife’s breast. Gyda’s long white legs entwined with her husband’s. As the faint light from the east came into the room, he kissed Gyda and rose to go tend his cows. The keen morning air of Ryfylke smelled of new grass and the sea. And hope.
In this bed, one year later, Hallkjell was born with a loud, lusty wail. Tormod embraced his weary wife and fell to his knees, praying to the Christian God to keep safe this boy, his firstborn son. Gyda lifted herself from the bed, made a fire in the hearth, and secretly prayed to a goddess of the Æsir.
“Frigg of Fensalir, protector of children, help our Hallkjell grow strong. May he always have a safe haven to rest in. May the storms pass him by, the tides bear him up. May his life inspire the generations to come.”
In this bed, Tormod died when Hallkjiel was only thirteen. The boy then became the provider. There were elk to hunt along the deep Lysefjord of Rogaland, salmon and haddock to be caught. He shouldered the weight as much as any man.
Seven years later, this was the marriage bed of Hallkjell and Ragne. Their first son, Torbjørn, was frail, and a frightened child. He slept in this bed with his parents to end his night terror and to stop his weeping. In this bed, young Torbjørn breathed his last rattling breath, and then it was his parent’s turn to weep.
I awoke this morning in this bed, an old woman, and I gave thanks for another day of life in which to work and to atone. I, Otilia, daughter of Halkjell and Ragne, sister of Torbjørn, I have slept in this bed for many years, first with Olaf, my good husband, and now alone. And yet, not so alone.
In this bed I lie wrapped up in the righteous lives of generations. They comfort me, they are my guides. My ancestral mothers have given me courage, my ancient fathers have offered me wisdom. My family’s lives are the inspiration for the generations to come. My eldest daughter, Solveig, will be the next keeper of our long history, she will inherit our family legacy.
And this bed.
Mortality. Enjoy the part you get. New driver's license picture shows the depth of denial.
Well, that was certainly some bed! Our bed is not THAT old, but we were given the frame 46 years ago during our first year of marriage. Our 2nd daughter's teeth marks are still at the bottom wooden slat. This is because we had her sleeping at the foot of our bed in a small folding bed for 8 months. At about 6 months she learned to pull herself up, and then she'd stand there grinding her new tiny teeth on the edge of the frame while she stared at us until we awoke. .... I treasure those memories of awaking to her shiny sweet face at our feet, and I still enjoy seeing those little teeth marks on the frame - even though our "baby" is now 43!