OK, so first off here I must say that this post might gross out those of you with weaker stomachs. The subject alone is probably going to gross out my wife. I’m here to talk about my beloved pillow.

What a pillow it’s been. It’s older than many of my co-workers (yes, even you Susan). The white flower pattern can barely be seen, its strings are falling off and it’s full of more stains than I can count. But I have loved the pillow from day one.



The legend begins around 1982 or 1983, at a Wal-Mart in Carbondale, Ill.

The pillow made the move to Florissant, Mo., in 1984. And it made it to Springfield, Mo., in 1993. During that period, I had to pull the rapidly deteriorating pillow out of the trash at least two times (mom thought she could sneak it out!).

When I left for Fontbonne College in 1994, my pillow was considered an essential. It survived three dorm rooms and then, after college, saw me through three jobs, four apartments, my friend’s basement and lots of other ups and downs. It was there with me, too, when I met my future wife. Though the two didn’t see eye to eye, the pillow made it through our move to St. Charles, Mo., as well as our marriage and the birth of our son.

Sarah even tried my mom’s trick by trying to toss the pillow out. I pulled it out, of course. And she later stuffed it into a zipped-tight pillow protector. But I would have none of it. Nothing could replace my pillow and all of its worn-thin goodness.

Then, about two years ago, I got sick after a work function. I spent the next couple nights sleeping in the guest room and using a newer pillow. I realized that maybe I could move on. It took a while. The pillow was my on-again-off-again sleeping partner for over a year. But I did give it up for good about seven or eight months ago.

And yesterday, the pillow finally bit the dust. With my mom in town for the weekend, I thought a fitting send off would be to let the two women in my life throw it in the trash bin.

In closing, I must say that I’ll always remember and miss that pillow. It’s seen things and been through so many highs and lows with me. No pillow will ever take it’s place. And though I’m not crying on the outside, it hurts deep down to think of my pillow rotting away at a landfill. Oh well. Life goes on.