From the middle of the night, emerges the morning

It is the middle of the night.  I am wide awake.  I am like a stranger in a new land.

It is difficult to stay here in this moment as my mind, almost with a will of its own, moves forward in anticipation of the morning light.  I say “stay” and my mind wanders “go”.  One more try to stay put.  I open myself to now and the next wave moves in.  The next moment rolls in like a wave lapping up on shore.  I have only seconds to be “here” until the next wave arrives and washes “now” away.

For just a moment, though, I am the middle of the night.

This world is quiet.  The house is still, save for the noises the house makes as it responds to the changing temperatures.  The furnace clicks on and off to stave off the cold that lurks just outside the windows.  Angry with the fickle climate, the house creaks in protest, but ever so subtly.  It is not loud enough to wake the inhabitants, yet, I am aware of its discontent.  It will not be long before the quiet intimations can no longer be restrained and the chorus of morning erupts throughout the house.  Right now, I resonate the quiet and listen…

This world is calm.   It is still.  The front door remains closed for the night in stark contrast to it’s whirligigged-frenzy of open and close throughout the day.  The halls are vacant.  The dog is curled up in a ball in her bed – ball by her nose in anticipation of a morning walk.  The stove is off, yet the din from the light casts a warm glow over the appliances.  Sleep has cast its spell on the cast and characters of my home.  I know life will once again spring from the calm.  Right now, I sip the calm and feel…

This world is dark.  Shade of grey hush the vibrant colours that spring from my quilt, the Christmas tree, and paintings that hang on the walls.  My eyes play tricks on me as they adjust to this new reality.  I think I know what this is and what that is, yet, there is a mysterious silhouette that shrouds the objects in my room.  I am assured that this darkness will fall away from the room as the chrysalis to a butterfly.   Right now, I stare at the dark and see…

This world’s palate is smooth.  My mouth has gone to sleep.  My jaw relaxes.  My tongue awaits bitter, sweet, salty.  Night rolls over my taste buds like dark chocolate.  It melts and coats the air and flows richly from room to room.  Deliciously decadent.  Smooth and rich. I anticipate the aroma of morning coffee wafting up the stairs to swat at my nostrils as an alarm sounds though the air.  Right now, I bite the night and taste…

This world is fresh.  I wrap my sheets around my head to trap the heat escaping from my head.  They are soft around my face.  I breathe in the smells that soothe and refresh all at once.  The kitchen smells have faded into the night.  The flowers guard their precious perfumes until they can seduce our noses with their sultry persuasion once again.  Pops of pepper, hints of honey, and bursts of bacon have been silenced until the morning.  I know they will arrive.  Right now, I inhale deeply and smell…

It is the middle of the night.  I struggle to be wide awake.  I am no stranger to this new land.

I close my eyes and a wave takes me away and from the middle of the night, emerges the morning.

Advertisements

About inmycorner

This blog began as an opportunity to tell my Dad's stories. I sat with him and the computer and together we told stories. It was a wonderful way to get to know Dad. He was 9. He and Mom had a wonderful life together and since she passed away a year and a half before him - Dad was ready to join her. I no longer tell his stories but have found stories of my own. The impetus to resume this blog was the discovery that I had stage 4 ovarian cancer. Since blogging had been so therapeutic for my dad and I to get through our grief, I felt maybe this would be a good outlet to process my situation. I also hoped it may serve as an outreach to anyone else who is facing this very ominous journey. So far, so good.
This entry was posted in Cancer Journey and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to From the middle of the night, emerges the morning

  1. Gwen K says:

    Wow. Your words so aptly describe the middle of the night. I can totally visualize your house and it’s nightly robes through your words.

  2. Love the beautiful poetry in your words!

  3. kiwiskan says:

    great writing – glad you finally got that sleep

  4. I chuckled at the vision of you wrapping the sheet around your head. For some reason ET came to mind. Though the prose of your words was beautiful.

  5. fouresthsister says:

    Have you ever read anything by Ann Voskamp? Poetic writing always takes me back to her. You keep claiming to not having the ‘words’ but you have done well to translate your world to the rest of us.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s