What’s wrong with this picture? Look carefully. Something is a tiny bit off. It’s a minor detail but it conjures up a lot of negative emotion in me every time I see it.

Give up? It’s the pillowcases. They used to be blue until that fateful day Heath decided to go into work, despite his boss texting that she was working from home, and I decided to buy one more thing for Christmas.

I get why someone would steal a pillowcase. It held all the loot the burglars got away with. I’m embarrassed to admit that my bed was not made that day. My nightstand had been dumped upside down on the bed in an effort to get to the fire safe underneath. I felt sick to my stomach restoring proper order to my things. In the process of doing so I noticed my pillowcase was gone.

I had more reaction to the stupid pillowcase than anything else. As my neighbor put it, that’s where I sleep! Talk about violation of privacy. Besides that, the pillowcases no longer matched. I had to grab one from the cupboard. A cream colored pillowcase my mom bought me for Christmas one year when I was in high school.

Heath bought me the whole bedding set soon after my dad died. The warmer tones in the bench I got from my dad’s house didn’t match the cool silver bedspread we had. I was a walking zombie more often than not and Heath is a fixer. It was hard on him to not how to help me through the experience of losing a parent I had been estranged from for so long. Retail therapy was a good start.

I remember how much time we spent looking for the right sheets. Suddenly there they were. The perfect shade of blue to go with the bedspread we had fallen in love with. And oh so soft. I was relieved to find the replacement pillowcases. The same brand as our sheets sold pillowcases separately. Who knew? We bought the queen size since our sleeping pillows are not king size. It’s nice to not have so much extra fabric to tuck somewhere.

I don’t feel whole yet. It’s frustrating trying to replace things that took years to accumulate. At least with a matching set of pillowcases it’s easier to forget the nightmare.

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