My Antique Brass Bed
Tracy Patterson
For some reason the
article on page 38 in this issue reminded me of the old becoming new to me, via
the numerous antiques I received earlier in my life—a brass bed, a
secretary desk, a trunk, a couple of small china cabinets, and a variety of
dishes and knickknacks.
I
don’t even remember where I got most of my beloved treasures, but the brass bed
was a Christmas present that came from an attic in an old cottage at a lake
that my family used to visit when I was very young. It was quite a bed with its
rickety brass frame, old wire mesh on wood supports, and a piece of plywood that
lay between the mesh and the mattress. And what a mattress it was, a three-quarter
size that was as basic as it gets, and no box spring.
I
was horse crazy, and when my mum decorated my room, she made a wonderful
bedspread with horses on it and a bright green skirt. My antique brass bed
became a playground of sorts that I used to make a “fort” or a “yacht” right on
the bed, tying rope from the headboard to the footboard and draping blankets to
make a cozy area inside. It also served as a hospital bed for my dogs when I
would bandage them up and “cure” them of whatever ailed them in the particular
scene I had created at the time.
Looking
back, it was the perfect bed for a child, and I didn’t notice it then, but as I
grew older I realized that my bed was darn uncomfortable! Still, I persevered
for many years, into my 30s actually, before I realized that I wasn’t getting a
good night’s sleep and that it would be in my best interest to find a more
comfortable bed. My brass bed then became a spare bed, which wasn’t ideal for
company on two levels—comfort, and if there were two people it was a mighty
tight fit.
The
day came when I made the very sad decision that my brass bed had to find a new
home. I no longer had space to have it set up in a spare bedroom, and I didn’t
have the room to store it. I was very emotionally attached to my bed, so it
wasn’t easy parting with it. I took it to an antique store and had to just walk
away and not look back.
I’ve
often wondered what became of my antique brass bed. Perhaps it was a Christmas
present for another young girl, like I was when I received the bed, and that it
helped to serve as a source for her imagination and play growing up.
Tracy
