Here I sit, just after midnight. The house is quiet, all are asleep, except for me. For the last few nights I have found it impossible to fall asleep easily. So, here I sit.
There is a peace to the house this time of day. It feels good to know that those nearest and dearest to my heart are not far away, and are at peace themselves. The house has a feel to it, full but quiet that soothes me. While I would love to be slumbering away in my room, there is a pleasure to tapping away at my computer at the kitchen counter too.
I can remember how my mother would wake up long before the sun each day. I never understood why she would do it, when it only meant a nap in the afternoon and an early bedtime. Yet, each morning she would get up long before anyone else, make a pot of coffee, and read the paper. These nights give me a little insight into why those mornings were so needed for her. I can imagine the peace of the house, the way the sun would slowly brighten the sky, how the peace would be broken by our waking and the day beginning in earnest.
There is a little selfishness in my insomnia. While there are times when I find it a burden, and I fight it, there are times when it is an unique gift. When my days are filled with child, husband, house, family, church, village, bills, errands, cleaning, meals, and all the static of daily life, what a luxury to have a few quiet hours to myself. The knowledge that until it is time for me to go to bed I have nobody to please but myself is beyond value. Insomnia, my indulgence, my curse.
I think I may be ready to sleep now, morning comes so early. I have had my quiet moment of reflection, now I want to sleep. Tonight, will insomnia be my co-conspirator, or my foe? Only the dawn will tell......