Keeping Cool

     
          Somewhere in the middle of my tossing and turning last night I heard a whispered, "Mom, mom.  Can you tuck me back in?"

          "What time is it?" I mumbled.  I can tell that from where I sit now, I'm not sure I was even totally awake at that point, but I do remember him pushing aside some things on my nightstand to see the time.

          "Almost 3.  Oh, and there's been glowing orbs in my room again."  I could see him now, illuminated by the brightness of the digital numbers on the clock.  He stood by my bed surveying the room, much the same way an eagle surveys the land below, his head moving slowly back and forth.  I assumed he was seeing something, but I don't always ask.  Honestly, I don't always want to know.

          "OK, honey, let's go."  He padded down the hall skillfully as if he'd been up for hours, while I, on the other hand, stumbled down the hall toward his room as if I had just staggered home from the local bar.  Noticing that the bathroom light was still on, I made a beeline to the left, shut the light off, and then headed into his room.

          He had already fixed his covers and arranged the cat in his favorite spot.  My son met me at the foot of his bed and gave me a hug.  "They're right behind you, mom," he whispered into the dimly lit room.

          Again, I realize now that had I not still been in my sleep-induced fog I might have panicked.  My body might have immediately released the adrenaline required for a fight or flight response.  But I was a bit sleepy, so I casually responded with a "Who, honey?"

          "The glowing orbs, mom.  I guess it's Pop Pop and your Gram. They are right behind you."

          I didn't panic.  I simply told him that it was peaceful to know that they were keeping such a close watch over us.

          "I hope it didn't hurt their feelings."

          "How?"

          "Because I tried talking to them and asked if they were angels or spirits."

          Right or wrong, I told him of my assumption that his inquiry was not the kind that would have upset them.  That they were far more forgiving than we could imagine.  I tucked him in and returned to my room to toss and turn some more, thankful for the normality of my life.

          Sweet dreams to you and yours, here and there...