Sandman

I stepped into the downstairs bathroom, downed two Tylenol PM with a glass of Alka-Seltzer, and brushed my teeth. Years of insomnia led to a slight dependency on sleep aids. The average person can fall asleep in 15 minutes or less; on a good night I can find slumber after about two hours.

Albert watching, I crawled into bed, settled in, and whispered his name. On cue, he bounded into bed and curled up next to my back. I designed the space myself. The queen-size bed was elevated above the rest of the furniture. Decked out in deep purple and sky blue velvet the bed faced a large bank of windows. I intended the space to be the ultimate in comfort to entice the sandman.

Sleep had never been a good friend. I would put it off as long as possible only to give in willing and take as much as possible. I often felt like I’m about to drop to the floor and die yet I do not wish to sleep.

Each night before I turn out the bedside light, I try to think of all the daily happenings that I should be thankful for. This night I was very pleased with my day. I’d relaxed in the last of the autumn’s afternoons. I’d prepared the flower beds and other plants for the long winter ahead. I relished the sunburn that blushed my cheeks: a warm kiss from God.

Photo: Tortured-Raven