Monday, September 24, 2007

Poke, Poke, Poke

[3:27 a.m. I am laying on my side asleep in bed.]

Poke. Poke. Poke. I come out of my unconsciousness. Mom is poking me on the hip. Poke. Poke. Poke.

Me: What's the matter?

She continues to silently stare at me.

Me: Is there anything wrong?

She looks dazed and sits on the bed next to me. I've been through this drill before.

Me: I'm not dead.

She is in a cloudy world and she looks at the floor as she tries to figure it out. After a few minutes, the fear of my death has left her and she gets up and disappears out into the kitchen. I roll over and go back to sleep.

1 comment:

Greg said...

Okay, that's not something I've had to deal with so far. At least it's a good thing that your Mom wants you alive and that you can reassure her so easily!

Thanks for making me feel a bit better about where my Mother is right now. I'm reading your blog for inspiration and the comfort of knowing that there are more of us out there. Thank you again.