When Good Friends are Kept Apart

Yesterday, after I wrote a post for this blog, I came up with an idea for another post. Since I had already posted I decided to wait until today to post it. But now I'm going to write about something completely different: sleep.

It's on my mind right now because my body and brain are telling me I need some. Unfortunately, I have to be away within the hour, so I'm not going to be getting any sleep until a few more hours have passed.

It seems my good friend Sleep and I don't get much alone time. That's a real shame, too. Sleep is a good friend of mine. Often, Sleep gives me wonderfully vivid dreams. Occasionally, we quarrel, and I've awakened with screams. That doesn't happen real often, but it does. Other times I have just woke in tears. But most of the time, Sleep and I get along just fine. If we would only be left alone.

All my life my time with Sleep has been shortened by this or that. Mother used to tell of how Helvie was always such a cheery baby. "We would wake her up to greet guests and she would be smiling and happy. Bevie, on the other hand, always woke up grumpy."

Well, just what in the h*ll did you expect? Me and Sleep were enjoying a good time together and you come along and send Sleep away. And why? So a bunch of dorky relatives can fuss all over me. Had I been able to say it then, I would have told them: "Get the h*ll out of here and let me go find Sleep!"

Growing up in rural Minnesota one might suspect that it was quiet and serene at all times. Generally, it was. Just not when I was trying to invite Sleep to stay the night with me. Until you've been there, you just cannot imagine how far the sound of dogs barking in the night can travel. I can. It was a quarter mile to the one farm, and a half mile to the other. It didn't happen every night, but many were the nights when I lay in my bed, weeping at the absence of my friend, Sleep, all due to the incessant barking of dogs too far away for me to silence. I tell you truly - had they been within rifle range I would have silenced them.

I loved visiting up north, at Grand Rapids. That was where Alfred lived with his family. Alfred was Mother's cousin, but he and Daddy were best of friends. As soon as we arrived they sat and began talking - and drinking. Then, at night, the entire house shook with their snoring. For the life of me I cannot understand how anyone else in the house slept. On the worst nights they didn't. But I never did.

Snoring and barking. Barking and snoring. Sleep and I have lived a difficult relationship. Why does everyone seem to hate my friend, Sleep? Or at least hate it that Sleep and I are so close?

Last evening Spouse, Son, and I stayed up until ten watching M*A*S*H reruns. I knew it was a risky thing to do, as I prefer to go to bed around eight. But Spouse and Son like to stay up and the only television we have left which really works is in the master bedroom. Some nights I am able to fall asleep despite the noise, but even then I'm up later than I want. But last night was deliberate. I stayed awake until ten, knowing I had to be up by seven in order to drive forty-some miles to my digestive doctor.

Fortunately, after we shut off the lights Sleep came to visit me fairly quickly. It was a nice visit, with vivid dreams no doubt affected by the marathon of Korean War sitcom viewing. Then, shortly after eleven, Sleep left. You see, as much as I dislike snoring, Sleep just will not remain if there is any hint of snoring in the room. Sleep has left when I was snoring. That usually happens when I am exhausted, or in winter, when my throat fills with phlegm. (What causes that, anyway?)

Anyway, I wasn't the one snoring, but Sleep didn't care. Sleep just cannot abide snoring. After an hour of hoping the snoring would cease and Sleep return, I finally got up, took my pillows and blankies, and went to the play room, wherein there is a spare mattress laying on the floor. For three hours I begged Sleep to return, but there was enough of the faint sound of snoring to keep Sleep away. Finally, I just said, "To h*ll with it." I got up and played a computer game, taking my frustrations out on imaginary gremlins, tree monsters, and flying reptiles. Been doing that for about three hours or so.

And guess what? Sleep has sent me a message asking if I would like to get together. Yes, I would. Except I have to be leaving within about twenty minutes, so it seems like there's no point. Hopefully, when I get home from the doctor in a few hours, Sleep and I can have a nice long visit.