During the last several months I've developed a fond attachment for a sheet set I purchased at Marshall's at a bargain price. They're not a high thread count. They don't feel silky or luxurious. In fact, they're wrinkly and crinkly. They feel crisp and clean.
They are my early childhood memories.
Sheets on a clothesline billowing in the fresh air and gentle wind.
The sweet smell of ripe purple grapes in the arbor in our backyard.
The sight of the bright yellow forsythia bushes covering the chain link fence in our side yard.
The tart taste of the rhubarb growing wild along the side of the garage.
They tuck me in. They transport me. They renew my spirit. The comfort sheets.