When I was just a kid back in the seventies, I always loved when the family would take a trip to go visit my grandparents. It was a six hour trip by car, so whenever we visited, we always stayed overnight. It was just the four of us then, me, my sister, my mom, and my dad. Although the food and attention we received from our grandparents was great, one of the things I remembered and loved the most was being able to sleep in the bunk beds that they had waiting for us in one of the spare bedrooms.

Boy did we both love those beds, every other visit was my turn to sleep 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. I used to love just going up and down the ladder that was hanging on the side of the bed. We would always take the blankets from the beds and hang them over the bottom bunk to make a fort.

To me, these bunk beds were unique because they were made out of a thick wood and they were 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. I was lonely being there by myself, having the top bunk all to myself. It just wasn’t the same with just me there. I would still build the fort when she wasn’t there, but I would quickly get bored and find something else to do.

While I was away at college one night laying in an inexpensive bunk bed myself, I received news that my grandfather had passed. This moment was a sad one for me as I’m sure it was for my sister. I’m going to miss those times together.

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