Saturday, March 29, 2008
Love...for all it's worth
I was snoozing ever so gently this morning when I felt someone looking at me. I was swimming hard for the surface dragging myself up from a semi coma to the dawning of awareness when I heard Mac say "when you're sleeping, why do you breathe like that?" You know, I had to struggle to choke out the words "breathe like what?" "Well," says he, " like little puffs of breath and then this little...I don't know, like a giggle". He's whispering, and I'm wondering just how long he's been awake listening to me breathe. "Are you alright?" I asked. I mean, I am not understanding this at all and he admits he does it often. "You don't snore," he tells me. Now I'm sure this is not earthshattering news to most people, but it was vindication to me. You see, he does snore. And loudly. I've heard the term buzzsaw used to describe some snorers. Try jackhammer. In your ear. In the middle of the night. And then that sudden little jump, and I know he's having that falling off a cliff dream again. I've told him over and over again to try to sleep on his stomach, or on his side...but he swears to me he doesn't snore. He knows he doesn't snore because he sat up all night one night and never snored once. I kept telling him I was going to set the tape recorder up to get my proof, but you know there is just no convincing some people of the truth even if it's staring them in the face...or playing loudly in their ear. But by this time I'm wondering just what time it is. I look over to the clock to see that it's 5:00 in the morning. I patted his hand and prepared to snuggle back down into sleep when I heard a noise at the closed bedroom door. It got a bit louder, accompanied by meowing...indoor voice meowing...Pyewackit was whispering "let me in, I'll be quiet and won't let the others know I'm in there with you..." Then quiet. Then a bit of bumping at the door. Then a scurry of feet. In the nearlight of morning I see one brown paw coming beneath the door and reaching upwards. I hear a deep rumbling of laughter and Mac says "I think he ran to get his screwdriver set...sounds like he's removing the hinges." And it dawns on me. There's no wonder I'm so tired...I haven't slept "in" since 1989. It's the bedeviling men in my life. They give me no peace. My attention is required all the time. But it's a warm feeling when I stop to think about it, one lying watching me sleep, the other trying to remove the obstacle that separates him from the person he considers his own. It's love. I've decided that I'm pretty lucky anyone cares how I breathe when I sleep and begs for the door to be opened. Like Pye, I can always grab a nap later.