Sleep

Parenting involves less sleep.  I think most people would agree with that.  Especially mothers who tend to sleep with one eye open, one ear towards the children.  It becomes a way of life ...to sleep at the surface, ready to spring into action when one little one, or even big, stirs at night for any number of reasons.  So I've never been much of a sleeper, and fortunately I am not a person who need a ton.  But this past year has found very little sleep ...it's been redefined, more of an in and out of consciousness, horizontal for a period of time ...but real sleep is rare.  There's one place though, I've noticed is far better for me, where I actually sleep and wake only a few times ...our living room couch.  I've become a bit of a nomad at night, lying down with one for a bit, then another, perhaps another, checking on someone else.  Everyone needs their comfort time in little and big ways.  And when I can finally steel away and find my own spot, I'll settle on the couch.  Long since the symbol of marital conflict, that's not why I gravitate there ...to that place beneath the window.  I realized just the other day why this particular place gives me the best rest.  My body knows this spot well, it spent many nights there ...waiting, just waiting for Phoebe to return home.  We always "waited up," sometimes horizontally, and she would come up the stairs into the living room, or we would hear her feet on the front steps and go to the door to greet her.  I've never wanted my kids to come home into a house where no one is waiting for them.  Either one of us would wait there ...just wait, with no anxiety of her coming home ...she always came home, often before the determined time.  We didn't wring our hands, watch for headlights ...she was reliable that way.  So being there in that spot is familiar and soothing to my whole body.  I'm lying there waiting for Phoebe.  And really, among all the other things I'm doing, like living with and for my other kids, I'm waiting still for my daughter to come home.  Its a natural and simple enough routine that settles me a small measure so I can sleep.  Funny how it took me so long to figure that out.  I'm waiting by the threshold of our home for her return ...and for a little bit my body is tricked into believing that any moment now she'll walk through the door.
A small comfort, a tiny respite, a small treasure of a gift from God.  And I imagine Phoebe seeing me there, knowing her mom is waiting on her, just like I always have ...and always will.  I miss you Phoebe.

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her.  May she rest in peace. Amen