nights like these

I hate these nights. Lack of sleep. Worry. Sadness. No one to talk to. Reflection on all I have done wrong or could have done better. Self-character annihilation.

I worry about dear friends and how they are....Where they are. And what I could do or have done to improve or hinder their well being. I turn these thoughts over and over in my mind like a beach comber inspecting a stone. The thoughts make me sick and sad. I want to turn back time and notice what I didn't before...I want to change my selfish or thoughtless ways. I want to declare how important their friendship and love is to me.

I lay in bed and turn the light on...and then off. And then on again...Somehow imagining that my hearing becomes increased with the increase in light...Listening for a bear to return to claim another hen...And then feeling guilty that the bear has been set up for failure by having livestock on the edge of a forest. It is doing what it does naturally...find food. So I lay in bed inspecting a electric fence manual hoping that I can install it without injuring myself or others and that some of the sadness I feel for the bear will be assuaged by the erecting of this deterrence.

I toss and turn replaying our "Father's Day". Although we talked of Jeff a lot and missed him palpably, fixing fencing and coops, visiting my own dad and generally getting through the day took precedence. I don't feel that I honoured his memory or his love for the kids or their love for him. Liv missed her dad and all he represented visibly. Briar was much more oblivious as he had spent the day with my mom and her friend. But my heart aches for both of them tonight as I think of all I should have done and have done in the past to allow them to demonstrate their love or loss. It's times like this that I wonder how Jeff would do it differently had I been the one who died. And it's nights like this that I recall his joy in his daughter's spunky intelligence and his pride in his son's thought-filled actions. I still miss him terribly four years later. I still wish he were here to whisper to in the night about all these fears, guilty and melancholy thoughts. It's his hands that I long to hold and his arms that my body misses around its' waist.

I know that lack of sleep adds fuel to these ruminations. I am aware that the darkness of night amplifies all the darkness of these thoughts. I can hear the birds beginning to sing for morning heralding the beginning of a new day....but still the sadness seeps through. Tomorrow is a new day. If I can just get through the next few hours...the morning light, the sounds of little ones stirring in their bed and the scent of coffee will make it easier again.