You Light Up My Life

I have this little bedside lamp and I love it. It was in my grandparent’s house, in my mom’s old room, and she loved it, too. My mom and I visited my grandmother often and we slept in her old room, which had two double beds with matching old, hand woven bedspreads, and we shared the lamp for years, switching it on and off in the middle of the night until Chase came along. We put him in the room with us, in my mom’s baby crib, which I’m sure would be deemed unsafe for babies now and probably was then; something about a baby getting their head stuck in between the rails or some such horror story sure to keep new moms up all night. Anyway, we didn’t dare turn on the little lamp lest he wake up and we had to go downstairs and heat up a bottle in a pan on the stove while he screamed as loud as he possibly could. My grandmother didn’t have microwaves or many modern conveniences by choice, but I loved that house more than anything. I have a friend who says no, I just love the memories of the people and the times but, no. I loved the actual house. My grandfather built it and I cried the day it sold. I still think about getting it back some day and I just might, but I digress. When my grandmother was 90, she gave me the little lamp. I brought it home and got a new cord for it and a new shade and when she visited a long time later, I showed it to her. “I don’t remember that. It’s not the same lamp,” she insisted. I never could convince her and this still bothers me. I wish I’d left it alone, just as it was. New and improved meant unrecognizable to her. Now days, though, I just try and think good thoughts so I’m back to loving it. I told my cousin about it this morning after she sent me a poem about lamps. I send her cartoons and she always says something nice about them, never anything critical like, “I don’t get it” or “the art really sucks.” And she sends me poems or stories which are always great. A few minutes after I told her my lamp story, she turned it into one of those poems (pictured below) and I love it. So, is there a lamp in your life? If there isn’t, maybe go get one at a thrift or antique store. Ask the story behind it. And, leave the shade alone!