For 52 years except when one of us was somewhere else we made our bed together. There is in my mind all the time when I am making my morning bead when Rosemary says, “Alex make the bed neat for the cats.” With that she would also tell me, “Alex change the kitty litter because it smells.”

There is an intimacy in making a bed that instantly connects me with my Rosemary. The bedspread is all torn. I refuse to replace it with a new one that Rosemary’s body would not have lain on. Now I find it hard to make the bed with that fitted sheet. It was easy when both of us were involved.

One of the supreme pleasures of my married life was making the bed with freshly laundered sheets and pillow cases. Rosemary and I would take a bath (sometimes together in the tub) and then to get into the fresh smelling bed was pure earthly heaven.

Now as I lie on the bed with Niña on top of me I sometimes ask her, “Niña do you remember Rosemary?” I wonder if she does.

Julio Cortázar  wrote: “Estoy tan solo como este gato, y mucho más solo porque lo sé y él no.”

Julio Cortázar & Flannel

I don’t think I agree. Niña must know her twin brother died. And 6 years later she probably does not remember Rosemary. Should Rosemary in a miracle show up at the front door I am sure Niña would know her.