Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Oh, Sleep, Where Art Thou?


I just woke up from a fair night’s sleep.
For me ‘fair’ is as good as it gets.
And I know because, once, I had a fantastic sleep.
The best sleep of my life.
It happened when I was eight.
Let me tell you about it . . .
Dad had taken my brothers . . . somewhere.
Exactly where they went is blurry.
The important point is that they were away. And that their wonderful bunkbed in the bedroom next to mine stood empty.
I should mention here that I had long coveted their beds. They were made of beautiful, solid maple and were soooo comfortable.
But I digress . . .
My older sister, Chris, and I saw an opportunity for some fun and adventure.
We’d stay the night in our brothers’ beds!
Wow!
Okay, I admit it. We didn’t have a very exciting life.
Moving on . . .
Chris took the upper bunk and I snuggled into the lower.
We talked and laughed.
Mom made a couple of visits to the doorway to threaten to separate us and finally to *shudder* make us go back to our own beds.
It was this second warning that made me finally give up and close my eyes.
My shoulder started to ache so I decided I should turn over and get more comfortable.
I opened my eyes.
Sunlight was streaming into the room.
At first, I didn’t recognize it for what it was. I had never seen the world go from black to light quite so dramatically.
I thought someone had turned on the lamp.
I turned to look at the window.
Nope. I was right. It was sunlight.
Somehow, morning had instantly followed bedtime.
Instantly.
It took some time for me to realize that I had just had a night of deep, dreamless sleep.
I know it happens to other people, but it had never happened before.
Or since.
To me.
But I have that one night.
And, believe me, in the sleepless hours between midnight and four A.M., I often think of it.
Sigh.
Where’s a stolen bunkbed when you need it?

13 comments:

  1. Around here, we call that "adventure sleeping." It used to mean stolen bunk beds and sleeping bags wedged in impossibly small (but cozy) spaces. Now it means my husband and I occasionally switch sides of the bed. I myself go through periodic bouts of insomnia. So I know how precious a commodity is sleep. Dear Friend, I hope you again experience a good night's sleep. Any bunk beds in the neighborhood you could steal for the night? :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sleep for me wasn't a real problem. I do have those occasional times when I sleep better behind the wheel. When Kenzie and I drive to Calgary to see the kids, she often catnaps while I drive. She wakes up just as we arrive at the city. "Boy, that was a good sleep!" she'd exclaim. I'd respond: "Me too."

    ReplyDelete
  3. Maybe that's my problem. I need a bunk bed!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Ah! I don't get that kind of sleep without medication...

    Sleep is one of my goals in life. :-)

    Pearl

    ReplyDelete
  5. Wonderful! from your friend @grammakaye on twitter!

    ReplyDelete
  6. What's the problem here? You're an adult right? With an income? Buy yourself a bunk bed and put it wherever you want it. Of course, there is always the possibility that it was a 'one of'. Nah..we won't go there.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Sounds idyllic - don't think I have had a proper night's sleep since I had my children, as I constantly sleep with one ear on alert!

    Perhaps I need to move into my son's bunk bed, lol!

    Kate x
    http://www.kateathome.com/

    ReplyDelete
  8. There's a lot I can't do, but sleep is one thing I do TOO well. Like a log, as they say. Not meaning to rub it in. Rather, feeling quite rueful that my skills (?) are so few and sort of weird :)

    ReplyDelete

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