Grandpa's Sleeping Bag

Grandpa had a red cotton sleeping bag that was big enough for two people. The inside was tan-ish yellow. It had a silver metal zipper that held the bag closed when half of it was flipped onto the other half. It was rectangular when zipped and square when open.

Many times I lay in that sleeping bag with my sister, Lani, in the back of Grandpa’s truck when we were picked up from the Lagoon amusement park. I’d lay on my back looking at the stars as we drove south toward Orem on I-15. The orange lights illuminating the freeway would shine in my eyes until we drove under an overpass.  

The first time I slept outside was in that bag. I was seven years old and we lived in the black & white house. My mom put cardboard under it so the morning dew wouldn’t get it wet. Again, Lani and I lay in it together. Many times, Lani and I slept outside at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, in that sleeping bag and under the big tree in their front yard.

When I was in high school and we lived at the "Cascade house" (by Cascade Elementary,) Lani and I would sleep, in that bag, outside on the concrete slab on the West side of our house. (The house was directly to the East of the slab, and the garage was directly to the South.) The canyon breeze would whip around us in the morning. My hair would be a tangled mess and have small rocks in it if I didn’t scoot down in the bag, where the wind couldn’t touch me.

The inside of that sleeping bag wore thin from all the times it was used. I loved that thing and have fond memories of it.