Allan died in the bed we shared, and since the day after he passed on I have spent each night I haven't been working in that same bed. Although I don't always sleep for very long, or very well, I have not felt haunted or uncomfortable being in it. I always felt good sleeping with Allan; I wanted this man in my life from the day I met him, and I was lucky to have him there. Recently though I've ben thinking about getting a new bed. The mattress was about 10 years old, so time to be replaced anyway. But I have been struggling to make a decision because, well my man died on that mattress, it was where we slept, shared the nights, the colds and sniffles, the snores and the cuddles, affection and warmth that defined our relationship. Would I be removing yet another of the ties between us by replacing the bed? Would I be getting rid of a tangible reminder of our love, and indeed of the tragic nature of his going? After a long time debating this with myself, I decided to get a new bed. I believe that the love Allan and I share (and I deliberately use the present tense) goes beyond a bed, and the carpet where I tried to resuscitate him, where I still find it hard to stand on. So I've decided.