Time Travelers

Grief has taken a toll on my sleeping habits. After my son’s death in February of 2016, I was unable to sleep without the help of high-dose prescription sleeping pills. Even with the medication, I was only able to sleep for a few hours at a time. I desperately wanted to sleep... it was the only way I could escape the unrelenting pain that had taken control of my life. A year into my grief journey, I quit taking the medication. There were side effects that I didn’t like, and I felt the sleep I was getting wasn’t good quality sleep. I just stopped taking the pills and weathered the storm that followed. I knew if I was going to find any healing from my devastation, I would have to be an active participant. I was eventually able to fall asleep on my own, but still unable to sleep through the night. I have learned to get by on less sleep than I used to require. I have been an early riser for years, thanks in part to my former work schedule. Even though I no longer need to get up to be at work, I still wake up early every morning. I am generally awake hours before the sun comes up. It has been almost 29 months since Jordan’s unexpected and tragic death and he is still the first thing I think about every morning. There was a time that I just couldn’t bear those early morning thoughts and I would quickly get out of bed and find a distraction. There are still days that I have to seek a distraction from my own thoughts, but mostly I embrace the memories of my son that come to visit me in the early morning hours. I lie quietly to avoid disturbing the stillness and gently unfold and relive fragments of my life with Jordan. Some are painful as I recall sharp words I spoke or parenting mistakes I made, but there are so many others that are bittersweet and have a way of spreading a layer of comfort. A frequent visitor in the predawn hours is the memory of the last time I saw him... just two days before his death. We were standing in his apartment parking lot saying goodbye after spending part of the day together. We shared hugs and kisses and I could feel our deep connection, as I know he could. For some reason, I couldn’t seem to let go... I said I love you several times and I can still hear him saying he loved me too. Our hearts touched at that moment in time and I am so thankful for that blessing... it often makes me feel braver than I really am. Our parting had a spiritual quality to it, but it in no way prepared me for it to be our last. Yes, remembering can be painful and even the beautiful memories cause sorrow, but forgetting would be so much worse. As long as I live, my son will live... his memory lives on in my heart. We meet in the early morning hours as time travelers and visit our shared past. I love and miss you, Jordan!