Glaubaal

I have many reasons, presently, to be disappointed in myself, and at the top of the list is not writing down my dreams. To my shame, I have been convincing myself, in the state of semi-consciousness I find myself in upon awaking but not yet having accumulated enough hours of sleep-time, that the dreams I’ve had are too fragmented and haphazard to be written down in any format which would make any sense. This is compounded by a fear that awakening enough to actually write a dream down would forfeit my capacity to fall back asleep and be well rested (and possibly have another dream). The worse case scenario is awakening enough to write down a few vague concepts which make no sense in hindsight, and still being unable to sleep longer.

It has happened before, so it’s not an idle fear, but it isn’t as common as my semi-awake self would suggest. Perhaps I need to alter my sleep schedule? At first glance, this seems like a suitable goal even outside of my dream issues, for it would allow me more daylight hours in which to be active, and as it gets warmer out I’m finding myself restless. It would be healthier to maintain a better schedule, and it would help Noah get more/better sleep and be healthier/happier. However, I’m not sure how this would affect my dreaming.

I prefer to sleep in the mornings, as it is light out when I awaken - allowing me to write without the aid of artificial lighting. I don’t have easily accessed electricity by my bed, so artificial lights are difficult to situate. I’m also afraid of waking Noah up, which happens often enough with his employer constantly sending him alerts on his Blackberry. I don’t want to add to his suffering.

These problems seem solvable, I’m just unsure of how to go about it. I haven’t even tried for some weeks, as I’ve been ill, but now that I’m in mostly good health I have few excuses, and I think the time is here to solve my problems.

That said, there’s always something new coming up to throw a wrench in the works. This week, I may have Noah’s business partner coming up for a number of days, which is bound to throw all our schedules, sleep or otherwise, out the window. I’m not sure which is worse, fear of starting, or fear of derailment. Do I wait for him to leave to try, or do I muddle through the distraction, knowing I’m likely to fail, until my chances for success rise?

Even if I don’t alter my sleep schedule, I need to come to an understanding with myself that if writing down my dreams causes me to lose sleep, so be it. I don’t have anywhere to be, and I’m not letting anyone down but myself (and possibly my readers), so missing out on some sleep isn’t the end of the world. Motivating my sleep self is terribly difficult, but I need to learn to do it in order to make this blag happen, and to be pleased with myself.

 On Saturday, the 29th of March, my father’s father passed away. I feel guilty, though, because I wasn’t sad when I got the news. He was eighty seven years old when he died, and nearly made it to eighty eight. He passed away in the home that he built, with his wife holding his hand, most of his children nearby. He left with most of his dignity, and will be buried on Thursday in the morning, after a military funeral.

He had been in pain for the past couple of years, mostly in his back, and he was becoming increasingly immobile and dependent on others. A few weeks ago, he stopped eating much, deciding that his time was coming. He got his wish, and now he needn’t suffer again. I was far more concerned with my grandmother’s emotional state than I was worried about him, but she’s glad that he went the way he wanted to, and was content.

This is a big change for my father’s family, but I hope that it can be a positive one. I’m regretful that I never got to know the man better, but he was a very private person and never opened up to me the few times I tried. He was generous with me, but for the past few years he never seemed to be happy. Now that he’s dead, I think I’ll appreciate my grandmother more, and hopefully spend more time with my father’s family.

I’m not glad he died, but I’m glad that he’s dead. Death, for him, was release from a failing body, and I hope he went very peacefully. Most people aren’t as lucky as him, to die on their own terms, and I hope that when my time comes, I can take a lesson from him. My grandfather is dead, and I’m glad for him. I will wear a regretful smile on my face when I attend the funeral, and will bear him with pride if I’m asked to. He is my blood, and I will honor him with happiness.

- Baalak called Grandfatherless.