At 3:30 I woke up. Ryan got up to use the bathroom or maybe he was just coming to bed, I don’t know.
But I was awake.
As I lay there hoping to go back to sleep soon, somewhere from my brain came these lyrics:
Please, don’t let this feeling end
It’s everything I am..
What? Where in the world did that come from? It’s the dang middle of the night, not the time to be dredging up old song lyrics from my tween years.
I can see what’s mine now
Finding out what’s true,
Oh come on! Can’t I just go back to sleep? I guess not. Sing it with me, folks….
Since I’ve found you
Lookin’ through the eyes of love.
Now, anyone under the age of -oh- 33 or 34, won’t even know what song this is, will they? Well, to help you out, here you go.
Because not only did we know the words to this song, we all leaned it on the piano. Didn’t we? Come on, how many of you could probably go and plink out the intro notes to that song right now? If you need to go and do that right now, I’ll wait for you.
Anyway, at 4:30, I changed pillows. I had the ultra fat pillow, but sometimes it annoys me because it’s just to fluffy. So, I switched to a flatter one. And then I heard music. Not just music in my head, but actual music. I sat up, wondering if one of the kids had set a radio alarm and it had just gone off. But as I listened, the music got softer, and then it was gone. I think it was a car. Really. A car. Maybe the paper boy had his radio up really loud or something like that, I don’t know.
At about 4:50, I decided to think of a happy memory. Maybe that would help me drift off to sleep. As I ran through the catalog of happy memories in my mind, several popped out from around the college era. A camping trip to Arches with friends, being in the play “The children’s hour” my freshman year at BYU, hanging out with my roommates, a trip with friends up to Island park to go snowmobileing…. and I don’t remember any more. That must have done it. A not so fluffy pillow and some happy memories helped me go back to sleep–Finally.
To bad I had to wake up only two hours later.
That was lovely, and I certainly remember it. Those fingers were not yours, though. And I didn’t recognize those knees, although they did look kinda like Chrissy’s. I guess you’d better tell Ryan not to get up at night because then you can’t get back to sleep. We have that problem. I usually get up twice, and Dad gets up once or twice. Bummer.