Rainy Sleep Journey: Happy Accident At The Cozy Launderette

Escape to a cozy basement sanctuary with "A Happy Accident in 1972," the latest episode in the Cozy Launderette Series. Tonight’s rainy bedtime story is your ticket to a night of deep relaxation and peaceful rest. When a tropical storm arrives on the Upper West Side, you find yourself at the Cozy Launderette, a charming hideaway where a beautiful new chapter is about to unfold.

As the soothing hum of machines and the gentle rhythm of falling rain wash away your worries, you'll witness how life's unexpected turns can lead to the most profound blessings. This heartfelt narrative is a quiet celebration of found family, unconditional love, and the magic of finding home where you least expect it. Get cozy and cuddle up as you drift to sleep. It's time to dream away.

Includes a reading of "The Birthday" by Christina Rossetti, Courtesy of the Public Domain

Transcript

Settle in for tonight's rainy bedtime story.

A happy accident in 1972.

The newest story in the cozy laundrette series.

If this is your first time with the series,

You'll feel right at home.

For those of you returning,

Your found family is here to greet you.

We'll travel through time to a humid afternoon in July on New York's Upper West Side.

As you stroll through Central Park,

A tropical storm suddenly arrives and you retreat to the charming basement laundrette of an old brownstone for a surprise celebration.

Amid antique chairs and overflowing bookshelves,

The soothing hum of washing machines mingles with a gentle patter of rain against the window panes.

Every moment becomes cozier as you gather with your kind,

Quirky neighbors,

Witnessing how a chosen family always comes together to celebrate a new chapter in a member's life.

As the day winds down,

You return to your charming apartment.

Your heart alight with a sense of love and community that comes from every gathering.

It's time to dream away.

Welcome to Michelle's Sanctuary.

I'm Michelle and I hope my voice reminds you of a dear longtime friend.

I invite you to lie back and trust my voice will always bring us to the most soothing destinations.

So,

Sink in and allow your imagination to guide you,

Knowing that stories like this are meant to awaken empathy and inspire a feeling of deep connection.

The cozy laundrette came to me after spending time in a friend's basement laundry that I would often take advantage of while she traveled the world and I looked after her cats.

I always encountered the most kind souls amidst the whirring of washing machines and overflowing bookshelves where they had a book exchange.

I've lived on the Upper West Side for nearly all of my adult life and have always been stories of the past.

This series has given me a chance to bring us to an era I often daydream about and brings to life characters inspired by the loving souls I've encountered in this remarkable enduring city.

As you celebrate making it to the end of yet another day,

We're going to enjoy a brief relaxation together to set the tone for the night.

Let's start with a big sigh,

Making a sound as you exhale,

Releasing any lingering stress or tension.

Now,

Sip in the air slowly,

Imagining the humid summer air of New York in 1972.

Picture your body softening,

Becoming a part of the moment as you get ready to mentally travel through time and space.

Now,

Let out a long,

Gentle sigh,

Releasing any tension or lingering thoughts from the day.

Appreciate the stillness of this moment as the warmth and love of the laundry club find their way to your space.

Now,

Continue to inhale,

Maybe yawn and sigh at the rhythm and pacing that feels good to you now as I count us down.

Each breath becomes softer and more grounded.

5.

Inhale slowly and deeply through your nose,

Connecting with the comforting scent of warm,

Clean laundry.

This feeling of coziness goes bone deep and your mind clears as every fiber of your being yearns to connect with this time of feeling good.

4.

A deep sense of gratitude washes over you,

Appreciating this time for yourself,

A peaceful pause from the day's demands,

The distant rattle of a dryer stirs a longing to remain in this cozy haven for as long as you can.

3.

A wave of warmth and love spreads through your chest as you feel utterly safe and nurtured,

And you inhale,

Yawn,

And sigh.

2.

Your muscles soften,

All blazes of holding relax,

And you find it effortless to surrender.

The comfort of the brownstones,

Exposed brick walls,

And decades of stories spreads a warm feeling that gently flows from the crown of your head,

Down your spine,

And through the front of your torso.

It continues to soothe your arms and legs,

Leaving a delightful sensation in your palms and the soles of your feet.

1.

You return to your inner peace and all your needs with a soothing understanding that tonight may be spent amongst beloved friends as you inhale,

Yawn,

And sigh.

2.

Now ease your breath back to its most natural sleepy tempo as we journey to the cozy Lanterette.

Sometimes,

Accidents occur.

Life-changing,

Unavoidable,

Unexpected occurrences that get in the way of our grand designs.

In moments like these,

It can feel as if we've lost the power of choice,

But soon we learn that our greatest power lies in how we choose to respond.

Some might say that those who find acceptance,

Who can shift their lens to view an accident as a blessing,

Are the ones who truly find and understand hope.

They learn to shift their sails and go with the flow,

Not because they want to necessarily,

Because that one unexpected event can serve as the beginning of a lifelong scavenger hunt,

Uncovering all the positive things that came from that one accident.

Madeline had always been that person,

Raised by a single father,

A gruff lobsterman in Gloucester,

She found refuge in a kitchen the moment she could climb her way atop the laminate countertops.

She accepted that all the challenges of her life,

Up until her childhood dream came true,

And she found her way to the Big Apple,

Served to support her vision of opening her own bakery in the city one day.

During the holiday season of 1971,

Madeline was well on her way.

Pre-dawn hours were spent designing custom sugary confections for the city's elite.

It only took one good connection,

In this well-connected city,

For a business to launch and a dream to become a reality.

But after all the long days and endless baking,

The stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve was a signal to let off some steam.

For once,

Madeline acted her age,

And not like the old maid her co-workers accused her of being.

Even her older cousin Martha,

Happily settled down in Vermont with her husband Ike,

Would chide that Madeline needed to have more fun.

And so,

She found herself dancing until dawn,

In a downtown loft amongst the city's best poets,

Writers,

Celebrities,

And theater legends.

It was a moment of relief that would change her life forever.

He was tall,

Mysterious,

And elegant.

A stranger with a presence she well understood.

A wealthy Bostonian,

He was the kind of man she never thought would entertain a lobsterman's daughter from the North Shore.

It all just felt like a dream.

That's what New York could do,

Blur the lines of class and background,

In a harmonious moment of celebrations against the backdrop of a glittering skyline.

Like Madeline,

He never planned to be at this party.

But after a cancelled flight,

This accident of circumstance led him to this unusual setting.

He had bright political aspirations,

They were a well-structured family legacy.

But in a smoky loft with candelabras burning until dawn,

And the lights of the city glimmering beyond the leaded windows,

An unexpected and fleeting connection was sparked.

Only in the quiet,

Rigid month of February,

Where its lasting effects felt,

Madeline arose one frigid pitch-black morning to get ready for her shift at the bakery and the wooziness began.

But Madeline didn't have slip-ups,

It wasn't part of her character.

The moment she had the wonderful gift of autonomy and set out on her own,

Her life choices were as measured as the pounds of butter and cups of flour and sugar she crafted into decadent pastries.

She managed to make it through the summer of 69,

The saintly choices.

Despite the temptations a city like New York may offer.

New chapters can be hard,

But they are always softened when revealed in the presence of a compassionate soul.

Ed was the first member of the laundry club to find Madeline crying as she folded fresh towels taken from the dryer.

When even his most quirky and absurd jokes didn't land,

He barreled up the stairs to his wife,

Dorothy,

And brought her down to console Madeline.

As Madeline revealed her secret,

The elderly pair met her with so much love and hope,

She remembered what she was capable of.

Their enthusiasm was transformative,

For now they had the chance to be grandparents in this chosen family.

A dream they had both long since abandoned,

Since they were only reconnected well into their senior years,

And Ed was mostly estranged from his son,

While Dorothy had spent all her childbearing years happily married to her Broadway career.

Their love came with profound grace,

A promise Madeline would be supported in the only place she truly felt home.

They were the first stop on her scavenger hunt throughout this new life,

Finding all the unexpected gifts that came from this accident.

This accident,

She decided,

Was a happy one,

That very moment in the basement of a cozy laundrette.

As Madeline's secret was revealed,

It seemed to only solidify the bonds of the Laundry Club,

What could be a more comforting social club than one that gathered amongst wicker baskets,

Overflowing with fresh towels and blankets,

The warmth of the dryers a shared sensation.

The storied walls,

The kind of thing that just invited a soul to reveal itself.

Tom,

The middle-aged poet,

Declared with a satisfied smile,

The next generation begins.

In the months that followed,

Everyone's anticipation grew.

They knew that Madeline,

Being so fiercely independent,

Could only be shown support in ways that she could receive their love.

Charlie,

The building's super,

Was the first to show his support,

Eagerly building a small wooden crib to be housed in the corner of the laundrette,

A silent promise of the future.

Every gathering of you and these neighbors became a quiet celebration,

Building up to the surprise shower that you are so happy to be included in.

Because every shared moment served to reaffirm to Madeline that she wasn't alone.

She had a family of eclectic souls to help raise this little girl.

On the day of the surprise shower,

You find yourself on a late afternoon walk through Central Park.

You walk from the east side,

Where you picked up a cake from a small bakery,

Tucked away beyond Second Avenue.

Ed and Dorothy's desire to keep the party top secret meant you had to travel across town,

A task you gladly accepted.

You revel in the endless wonders of a city walk,

And the stories that always unfold along the way.

The humid air hangs heavy and thick,

Carrying the unique smell of the Central Park Lake,

And of candied nuts sold from vendors along the way.

The skyline of Central Park South towers below,

And the scarlet Essex house sign a marker for those who get lost in the lush canopy of greenery in the summer months.

Soon,

Puffy white clouds that leisurely hover ahead are replaced by stormier varieties,

With menacing plum and charcoal gray underbellies.

The clouds paint the city in moodier shades,

Reflecting on the towers of glass that edge Central Park.

The city feels as though it's holding its breath.

The low rumble of thunder,

A distant sound just beyond the Hudson River.

Some tourists oblivious take their time,

While you quicken your pace ever so slightly,

Confident you will beat the storm.

You follow the winding paths toward the Central Park Lake,

Now also a moody,

Steely,

Reflective gray.

The air is so heavy,

It feels as though you are wearing a warm,

Damp cloak from head to toe.

This intense humidity makes you more aware of your physical presence as you push through.

The usual lively scene of people enjoying the weekend has shifted.

Rowboats are being drawn back to the shore,

Their oars resting now.

A shared understanding in the air that outdoor fun is over for the day.

The city's energy is changing as you walk,

From the lazy rhythm of summer to the tension of an incoming storm.

The air is met with a sharp,

Cool breeze.

A subtle warning of the impending downpour.

You appreciate the reprieve it brings as you return to the west side.

The double towers of the San Remo stand majestically on the horizon,

Their elegance a nostalgic symbol of the city's enduring beauty,

A stark contrast to the gritty headlines of the day and the city's struggling finances.

1972 is a year of contrasts as New York struggles and is often dismissed.

The tallest new towers now bookend the southernmost part of the island,

Showing that some still believe in its vibrant future.

But uptown,

The communities that form and deep bonds amongst neighbors give more promise than anything.

The heartbeat of Manhattan is still vibrantly felt as you come to Central Park West.

A few warm,

Heavy drops of rain land on your skin,

Cooling your face as you peer up at the sky and watch the clouds beginning to conceal the tallest high-rises.

You know that in just a few months' time,

The trees will be vibrant with autumn colors before shedding their leaves.

And by then,

Madeline will be a new mother,

Her life irrevocably changed by this happy accident.

The thought brings a quiet smile to your face.

It's easy to forget,

In the mundanity of routine,

That life is constantly evolving,

Growing.

Change comes with every new breath,

Even when it goes unnoticed.

And just as you arrive at your quiet side street,

The row of historic brownstones,

Brightened by overflowing window flower boxes,

With blooms in a riot of crimson,

Pink,

And orange,

The rain begins to fall in earnest.

You duck under the canopy of trees that line the sidewalk,

Their leaves trembling in the wind before slipping inside.

Even without an umbrella,

There's always a tree or awning to tuck under on these cozy streets.

A four-year-old girl in her rain boots and a summer dress.

Walks alongside her well-prepared mother and the family terrier.

She lives for days like this,

When puddles form and she's free to jump and splash.

Reflections on the city sidewalks and streets always double the beauty of the city lights.

You ascend the stone stairs and make your way through the heavy wooden door as the rain comes down harder.

A dry,

Warm sanctuary.

The building takes on different smells throughout the seasons.

Today,

Dorothy has left a vase of freshly cut roses in the main hallway that perfume the air.

You descend the narrow,

Creaking stairs to the basement laundrette.

The familiar scent of old bricks and warm linens welcoming as you push open the door into the laundry room.

The familiar space has been transformed.

Its moody,

Dark bookcases now adored with pastel paper garlands.

A handmade sign hangs in the center of the room,

Made of paper flowers brought together to read,

Happy Days.

Everyone contributed a message,

Hand-painted or crafted from paper,

With messages like,

We celebrate you,

Madeline,

And yay to new beginnings.

You encounter Ed with a joyful concentration on his face,

Lovingly laundering tiny newborn clothes,

Their soft rainbow pastels looking hopeful against the exposed brick walls.

His hands,

Gnarled from a lifetime of hard work,

Move with a gentle reverence.

A skill passed down from working in his family's Chinese laundry in the village.

He insists on tending to the delicate garments with infant-safe detergent,

Its faint,

Clean scent yet another promise of the future.

Wicker baskets overflowing with clean folded towels and blankets,

And the warmth of the dryers offer a constant comfort from the cool basement and cascading rain.

An elegant atmosphere of tea and laughter fills the air as Dorothy sets out a platter of finger sandwiches,

A jello mold with fruit inside,

And tea.

Just after you arrive,

Tom walks in,

Shaking rain from his tweed jacket.

He surprises you all with a decorative box tied with a silk ribbon.

Of all the gifts,

It is the prettiest and most thoughtful.

He has always been a poet,

A man with a faint hint of cigar in his jacket,

And a towering posture.

But as he places the gift on the table,

You see a softness in his eyes you've never acknowledged before.

A man who has spent his life exploring all kinds of love through the greatest works of all time,

Hoping to one day add to that collection.

You feel a sense of warmth settle in your chest,

A feeling of deep belonging that always comes when you are in this room.

You are all gathered now,

Listening to the gentle hum of the dryers and the soft patter of rain on the windows when you hear footsteps on the stairs.

Charlie and Madeline are coming down.

Madeline arrives,

Looking like a goddess.

A flowing lavender gown cascading over the curve of her belly.

At first,

Her face is confused,

A mask of bewilderment.

Charlie has lured her down to the basement with a false tale about needing her opinion on something.

And it takes a moment for everything to register.

Then her eyes meet yours.

She realizes you are all here for her,

Supporting this next chapter in her life.

The confusion melts away,

Placed by a soft,

Tearful smile.

Tom removes a record from its sleeve and places it on the vintage turntable.

As it spins,

It plays Carole King's tapestry,

And her eyes tear a bit more.

She nearly wore the record out,

But somehow it inspires her in a different way,

With motherhood now in her future.

Carole was also a young mother,

And it gives her hope that it's still possible to pursue her dreams.

Madeline makes her way around the room.

Awkward,

Yet joyously embracing each member of the laundry club as she navigates with her big belly and the baby begins to kick.

She invites you to place your hand on the lavender clothed bump,

And you feel the life stirring within.

Everyone succumbs to a wave of enchantment,

Imagining the role they will get to play,

And the thrill of creating a magical world for new lives.

The party is a beautiful,

Easy celebration.

It's not about gifts or grand speeches,

But about the promise of support.

A simple yet profound gesture that sweet Madeline never received until now.

As she opens each gift,

Each member of the laundry club speaks about how they look forward to the baby.

Their words like soft wishes,

The rain falls more heavily on the half windows,

Creating a cocoon of sound around the room.

In this moment,

Without obligation,

Madeline realizes that this baby will fill the hearts of everyone here.

Dorothy and Ed will become honorary grandparents.

Their long-held dream for family finally realized.

Tom and Charlie,

The kindest of uncles,

Will share their wisdom and love.

And you,

Another cherished member,

Who has been here since the laundry club first convened.

Have much to offer.

She sees it fully now.

A community that has her back,

But sees her not as a struggling single mom-to-be,

But as a beloved member of a chosen family.

As the party begins to dwindle,

Storm outside intensifies.

The wind howls and broad,

Green,

Waxy leaves shed from the trees and powerful gusts.

A dramatic display of nature's power,

Even amidst all the enduring historic buildings.

Prismatic rain patterns form on the tiny windows of the laundrette,

Dreamy and bringing a wave of sleepiness to everyone in the room.

No gathering is complete without a reading from Tom.

As everyone takes their final sips of tea and enjoys the last cakecrumbs,

He clears his throat and reads from the antique velvet armchair in the corner of the room,

In the dim light of a stained glass lamp.

A Birthday by Christina Rossetti My heart is like a singing bird,

Whose nest is in a watered shoot.

My heart is like an apple tree,

Whose boughs are bent with thick set fruit.

My heart is like a rainbow shell,

That paddles in a halcyon sea.

My heart is gladder than all these,

Because my love has come to me.

There is a quiet pause as he finishes,

Followed by Ed's loud,

Cheerful claps and a silly dance he does in typical attention-seeking form.

He'd never let things get too serious for too long,

But his glistening eyes reveal tenderness.

Dorothy's hand reaches for his lovingly,

Her antique wedding ring glinting in the warm light,

And they share a quick look of deep contentment.

Madeline begins to yawn,

And Charlie brings her and the new gifts upstairs to her apartment.

As the rest of you linger for a bit,

You help clean up,

Wrapping leftover cake and putting away dishes.

The room is quieter now as the record no longer plays,

And the storm becomes the city's soundtrack.

You say your goodbyes,

The warmth of your neighbor's hugs is a physical comfort.

You ascend the narrow flights to your own cozy one-bedroom apartment.

As always,

Your cat is waiting at the door.

A low rumbling purr,

A welcome home.

You go inside,

Showering away the day's humidity and grime in a clawfoot tub,

And then change into your most comfortable pajamas.

Snuggling into bed,

Your mind is full of gratitude and the warm,

Cherished memories from the day.

The moments of laughter and love as you drift into a peaceful sleep,

To the sounds of falling rain and the distance speeding of a cab.

Rain means change,

And everyone at the Laundry Club welcomes the bright new changes to come.

Finding comfort,

Finding peace,

Finding sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Goodnight.

Reviews

Thank you kindly Michelle for this new addition to the Cozy Laundrette series bedtime stories! Was very special in that it highlights the importance of community as family! We need more of this in our lives these days! So many are struggling since March 2020, living in isolation & divided by ideology. We need to be able to count on each, other despite our differences. I listened to this several nights in a row as it gave me hope when sometimes it doesn’t seem like there isn’t any. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

Will always be my favorite series. Thank you Michelle 🫶🏼

Oh, oh another story in the beloved laundrette series, thank you, Michelle🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻Made me think back to various stages in my own life where I relied on the laundrette for washing my clothes. There was the time where for several years a group of friends shared the rent of a huge brownstone in Antwerp, and we used the basement as our laundry room, but when I moved in that city, to two different areas, I went to the local laundrette, usually taking my bike to schlepp the huge bag of laundry, returning home to do something else, then returning with a book for the drying process, always hoping there would be enough dryers available at the same time to get it all done at once. It usually was a friendly atmosphere, nothing more. And the two years I lived in Amsterdam in an ashram, I went to the laudrette in the neighborhood, but those were rather anonymous experiences. From then on, it always felt luxurious to have my own washer and dryer. Your series really brings up nostalgia🙏🏻🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🙏🏻

Thank you, Michelle. I love the laundromat series. For years I didn’t have my own washer and dryer and I would have to do my laundry at the laundromat. I actually met a lot of really nice people, and developed a nice routine. I would get my laundry started, and then go down the street to get a bagel and coffee then come back and read my book. I would go early in the morning before it got too busy. I actually enjoyed it, it wasn’t a chore! 💜💜

Very soothing got me back to sleep after a early morning wake up thank you x