Autumn

Autumn

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Sleep of Tears

On those nights she sleeps between us, a warm soft bundle of love. She's such a tiny little girl she shares my pillow. I'm not sure when it happens but early on she'll gently worm her way inside my arms and snuggle. This pleases me.

It's difficult for me, sleep. It takes forever for my mind to allow the peace of rest to approach and shut out the demons of life. So I'm alert to her sleep patterns. As I wake, through out the night, I give gentle butterfly kisses and place my cheek to hers and listen and wait.

It always begins with her throwing out her arms, a jerk, a soft soul searing moan. Sometimes, a very very barely audible, "Oh, Papa." or "Nana." Then she'll begin to cry. This, does not please me. It rips out my heart.

I speak as soft as possible directly into her ear, "It's okay, Sweetheart, Papa's here, you're safe." And I use that 'shushing' sound in an attempt to lull her back to sleep. I kiss her and stroke her little arms. And, all the while asking God, why...why....why.

Most of the time my efforts work. She'll let out a gentle, 'ah' and return to dream land. Sometimes she takes my hand in hers and whispers, 'Papa.' I hold her tight and ask the Almighty to give this child, this angel, peace.

Many nights after these sessions I glance over and see her Nana wide awake with a look of sorrow in her eyes. We'll both stroke her, apply those butterfly kisses she so enjoys...."Papa, butterfly kisses are the way I know you love me."

She sleeps alone when she's away from us. Even now I hear her cries of nightly terror.






They haunt me.


Stephen

Tamara

Study in keen wit.


My thanks for the loan of this photo to, VolkStudio.blog. If you haven't visited you're missing out on some fine photography, pure art, of firearms and other subjects with a heavy emphasis on your rights under the Second Amendment.

Visit the lovely Tam, she'll make your day.

Stephen

Gotta Love It

Too busy to blog at the moment. So until later I give you....


Quote of the Day: Michael Z. Williamson

You live in a city. You don't know how to change a tire or oil. You don't know how to build a fire.  You can't communicate without a cell phone. You can't fix your plumbing. You can't set up your own wifi. You're untrained in basic economics, chemistry, physics and history.  You can't prepare food without packages, and aren't even aware that food has to be processed from root or bone before that. You only know and get paid for one very specialized task.

Yet you call me a "hick."
 H/T RobertM





Stephen