Charlotte Sometimes Blogs

Back in the seventies, I was just a little kid, but one of my fondest memories was going to visit my grandparents on my mother’s side. They were about a six hour ride away from us, so whenever we did go, we always stayed over one or two nights. Back then, it was just me and my sister, my mom and my dad. Besides the obvious attention and food that was constant throughout the visit, one of the best things about the trip was being able to sleep in bunk beds that my grandparents had in a spare room.

We loved those beds; me and my sister would always take turns sleeping on the top. Weeks before we were scheduled to go, we always knew who was going to be sleeping where, and who’s turn it was last time. We just couldn’t wait. Climbing up and down the ladder to the top bunk was one of the best parts. We would always take the blankets from the beds and hang them over the bottom bunk to make a fort.

I thought these were unique bunk beds because they were so sturdy, made out of this thick wood and painted white. I had never seen them painted white before, which is why I remember this so vividly.

As we got older, my sister became more interested in teenage stuff, and didn’t go with us as often anymore. Even though the top bed was mine every time she didn’t go, it was very lonely without her. It just wasn’t the same with just me there. Even without her I would still use the blankets on the bottom bunk, but this would get boring real quick by myself.

As I was lying in my own metal bunk bed in college one night, I got a call from my parents that my grandfather had passed away. This news caught me by surprised and shocked and saddened me at the same time. I already miss all the time we spent together.