When I’m alone
I dream on the horizon
and words fail;
yes, I know there is no light in a room where the sun is absent,
if you are not with me, with me.
At the windows show everyone my heart which you set alight;
enclose within me the light you encountered on the street.
What was once something taken for granted became something special; a time to look forward to became something needed.
The lack or loss of a day was felt acutely – changing the outcome of a day. Attitudes contagious. Exhaustion embracing.
Once upon a time I rebelled against it myself. Only when I was grown did I realize the power within, the comfort, the healing powers.
The afternoon hours became a hallowed time; adventures were to be had in the silence. Navy blue curtains exiled sunlight beaming down from overhead, masking the world continuing along its path. The dark was not feared, but it was the light they fought against.
Slowly chubby cherubs turned to gnawing gremlins, who became chatterboxes that become mobile. Errands, lunches and playdates began to creep into our lives.
But oh how I loved and desired those daily pauses. The calm, the quiet – albeit the calm before the storm.
Someday they’ll once again sleep ‘til noon. And embrace naptime once more.
It does so seem Search and Destroy have decided to say goodbye to their midday nap. It was a good four-year run.
I regret every nap I did not take back when I was but a young muppet myself.
I apologize to my mother for every evening that followed the lack of a nap between the ages of 18 months and 18 years.
I am jealous of the dogs who nap through anything – including the whirling dervish that is the playroom filled with non-napping preschoolers.
Sleep when the baby sleeps, they tell you. In truth? Sleep when the toddler sleeps, but pray the toddler actually does sleep. Cherish the moments as they are.
I wander all night in my vision,
Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping and stopping,
Bending with open eyes over the shut eyes of sleepers,
Wandering and confused, lost to myself, ill-assorted, contradictory,
Pausing, gazing, bending, and stopping.
– Sleepers, Walt Whitman
Because once upon a time the sacred slated schedule of naptime was the key to stability and survival. Today, the little ones will simply ask, “Why?” (and then pee on you).
Some things are harder than others to say goodbye.
Naps, I will miss you; know I dream about you still.