I have a cold. I know I'm not going to die with this cold, but I feel pretty miserable. When I sleep with a cold, it's more frightening that it usually is. I have bad dreams when I sleep with a cold.
Earlier, I started to fall asleep early in the afternoon, right at the beginning of Blitz's nap time. As I walked down to my bed where I knew I'd sleep better than on the couch, Blitz ran ahead of me. I'm sure he hoped for tuna flakes.
'Tuna flakes in the morning.
Tuna flakes at night.
Tuna flakes in the afternoon.
Look at my sweet face,
not at my little belly.
Ignore my little belly.
I'm a little fluffy.
I'm cute and starving to death.
Tuna flakes in the afternoon.'
I could almost hear Blitz singing. Do you remember those songs you used to make up when you were a kid, the ones about Snickers and Coke, the ones that weaved in and out of 'I am stuck on BandAids 'cause BandAids stuck on me' and 'My bologna has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R' and 'Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty or more, the Bloody Red Baron changed the score.' Yeah, those songs. Even when I'm ninety-three, those songs will run through my head. If I forget my dignity and sing them out loud, I will annoy the nurses. Those songs are intended to get stuck in your brain and never come out like a parasite that grows too intertwined with your lungs and your veins that it can never be excised.
Blitz sang one of those songs. I'm sure of it. I'm glad the catchy little tune hasn't gotten into my ear. I'd be singing that when I was ninety-three too. The nurses will speak with my grandchildren of dementia but I know the truth. They will be parasites, those songs.
I shuffled into my room and got into bed. I set the TV to a movie I'd seen a million times so I could sleep right through it without being drawn in. Pride and Prejudice, Keira Knightly's version. Blitz jumped up onto the bed and laid down on his pillow. I rolled over so I could pet him to thank him for coming into bed with me. He didn't sleep with me at night any more and I missed that.
The hard part with falling asleep is that it's hard to keep your hands from relaxing and falling away from something you're stretched out to touch, even a soft little kitty.
I tried to keep my fingers in his fur. I really did, but as I slipped into the cloud between awake and asleep, I could feel my hands relaxing and falling away from Blitz. I was sad. I liked feeling him touching me.
Just as I was about to snap down into the bubble of sleep, I felt a movement, a warm paw. His paw came across my fingers to remind me he was with me.
'I'm here with you,
while you sleep
sick little Mama,
I'm here with you,
while you sleep.'
I could almost hear a song. He shifted and fur enveloped my hands, soft fur warming my hands as I slid into the void. Some things stay with you while you visit the void, a soft touch, and the feel of someone purring a song in your ear.
Thank you for listening, jb
Earlier, I started to fall asleep early in the afternoon, right at the beginning of Blitz's nap time. As I walked down to my bed where I knew I'd sleep better than on the couch, Blitz ran ahead of me. I'm sure he hoped for tuna flakes.
'Tuna flakes in the morning.
Tuna flakes at night.
Tuna flakes in the afternoon.
Look at my sweet face,
not at my little belly.
Ignore my little belly.
I'm a little fluffy.
I'm cute and starving to death.
Tuna flakes in the afternoon.'
I could almost hear Blitz singing. Do you remember those songs you used to make up when you were a kid, the ones about Snickers and Coke, the ones that weaved in and out of 'I am stuck on BandAids 'cause BandAids stuck on me' and 'My bologna has a first name, it's O-S-C-A-R' and 'Ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty or more, the Bloody Red Baron changed the score.' Yeah, those songs. Even when I'm ninety-three, those songs will run through my head. If I forget my dignity and sing them out loud, I will annoy the nurses. Those songs are intended to get stuck in your brain and never come out like a parasite that grows too intertwined with your lungs and your veins that it can never be excised.
Blitz sang one of those songs. I'm sure of it. I'm glad the catchy little tune hasn't gotten into my ear. I'd be singing that when I was ninety-three too. The nurses will speak with my grandchildren of dementia but I know the truth. They will be parasites, those songs.
I shuffled into my room and got into bed. I set the TV to a movie I'd seen a million times so I could sleep right through it without being drawn in. Pride and Prejudice, Keira Knightly's version. Blitz jumped up onto the bed and laid down on his pillow. I rolled over so I could pet him to thank him for coming into bed with me. He didn't sleep with me at night any more and I missed that.
The hard part with falling asleep is that it's hard to keep your hands from relaxing and falling away from something you're stretched out to touch, even a soft little kitty.
I tried to keep my fingers in his fur. I really did, but as I slipped into the cloud between awake and asleep, I could feel my hands relaxing and falling away from Blitz. I was sad. I liked feeling him touching me.
Just as I was about to snap down into the bubble of sleep, I felt a movement, a warm paw. His paw came across my fingers to remind me he was with me.
'I'm here with you,
while you sleep
sick little Mama,
I'm here with you,
while you sleep.'
I could almost hear a song. He shifted and fur enveloped my hands, soft fur warming my hands as I slid into the void. Some things stay with you while you visit the void, a soft touch, and the feel of someone purring a song in your ear.
Thank you for listening, jb
No comments:
Post a Comment