“It’s in the third or fourth drawer down on the right side of my Mom’s dresser,” I told my husband. I was recovering from surgery after breast cancer and needed a light wrap over the shirt with pockets on the inside that held my drains. I could not easily open drawers, so asked my husband for help.
I had never worn the bed jacket, but I remembered exactly where it was. In fact, I had never seen my mother, who was rarely sick at all when I was growing up, wear it. But, I took in much of my mother’s furniture when she came to live with us for two years after her stroke. Her dresser, nearly full, was one of the pieces.
Discovering the pink, lacy crocheted bed jacket, I remembered seeing my grandmother wear it. She was the only girly-girl in our family. Pink crocheted lace suited her. And now, more than ten years after my mother had passed on, I remembered the jacket.
If you don’t know what a bed jacket is, think of a wrap short enough that you don’t sit on it when you are sitting up in bed. It is loose enough that it doesn’t bind when you reach to either side in bed. It is comfortable enough that you can slide down under the covers without having to shed it. This one doesn’t even have sleeves, just slightly molded shoulders and a collar which folds over to keep your neck warm. A crocheted tie holds it closed in front. There are no buttons or snaps, only soft luxury.
And, if you are lucky enough to have memories of your grandmother, her bed jacket wraps you in her love when you need it most.