It is 12:30, so technically it is another day already. But my daughter's monitor has gone off for a bradycardia episode, so sleep is going to be distant for awhile. *sigh* Time to write.
I wonder about people who are up this late, on purpose. There are people working at Walmart right now, in their blue vests. Maybe they're chatting with each other, stocking shelves, or straightening magazines on the magazine racks. Trying not to watch the clock too much. There are truck drivers who have further to go, listening to the radio, singing to themselves, and munching on twisty fries from Arby's. There are doctors and nurses who are rushing around, thinking that it's as normal a time to be at work as the middle of the day. (I know this because they always come bursting into your room at the hospital, wanting to chat, in the middle of the night. They forget that the rest of us would rather be asleep, I think.)
Then there are those, like me, that are mothers. Up because they're in labor. Up with sick children. Up waiting for teenagers to come home from dates. Worried, probably. I think most of us worry a lot. I think of all the mothers, laying there awake right now, praying their way through another night.
There is something so strange about the middle of the night, about being the only one awake. The sounds that are magnified, like the ticking of my clock. Small lights that shine brighter because everything else is dark. It's times like this that I like to turn on old movies--familiar friends to keep me company. Sometimes I'm awake just to savor the quiet. Sometimes I'm awake because I can't quiet my own mind. All of this writing is really just rambling from a worried mom who can't sleep. Hoping that I can get the thoughts out to make room for some peace and some faith. So, if you read this far, thank you for keeping me company during my long nights....