I didn’t sleep last night. I mean, I did, but I didn’t do it all the way. I just kinda hovered over the chasm between being awake and being asleep. My son is sick with the flu and I was with him in the twin size bed. It’s a daybed so there is another twin size bed right next to us, but he wants me right next to him…sharing a pillow.
My son is very warm with fever but it’s ok because it’s a bit chilly in the house and I have a light blanket over me that doesn’t cover my feet. He didn’t sleep well, either. He tossed and turned and coughed and had to blow his nose frequently. He knocked over a cup of water in the middle of the night and I really need to go in there and make sure the towel I threw over it, right after it happened, soaked it all up not leaving the water there to scar the floor.
I got up at 4:00 a.m hoping to find a Xanax or something to help me to sleep. The cupboard was bare.
I got up again at 6:30 a.m. to go check on my next door neighbor, who just got home from the hospital. He had open-heart surgery. His door was shut tight and I knocked softly. If he was comfortable, I didn’t want to disturb him because he was pulled apart and sewn back up from his neck to his groin. I thought maybe I should knock louder….but I didn’t.
I went back home, worried, and got back into the twin-size bed.
Again, I hovered over the chasm.
Time to go ahead and get up. I have an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I don’t like this feeling. I should be used it, but I’m not and I don’t think I ever will be.
The feeling is a mixture of 2 parts worry, 3 parts sadness and 4 parts homesickness. I don’t really know where home is and I guess I never have because I have had this feeling, a feeling I named “the bad feeling” since the age of about 5, and I definitely had a “home” when I was five.
It’s a quarter to two now, the kids just left to go to the doctor, and I think about the same question that’s been running through my mind since I got out of bed:
When did I decide to give up?