The Midnight Hours

It could have still been Tuesday night or the wee early, quiet hours of Wednesday morning, when I found myself laying awake; tossing and turning.  I don’t know what time exactly, I don’t open my eyes to look.

I remember coming out of a dream that featured Gemma Teller, the character from Sons of Anarchy.  I was critiquing her acting in the latest episode – weird, but it was enough to wake me up.

The next few hours looked like this as my brain whirred into action.  Here is a list of what I accomplished.

  1.  What challenges will my trainer give me in today’s session at the gym?  Why can’t I seem to move closer to my 3% goal?  Look into Blood Type diet that my friend told me about at dinner last night.  I really should go and see a physio about my knee.
  2. Made a list of what to take to Normanville on the weekend: champagne glasses, basketball, football, bag of linen sitting on the laundry bench unused board games from Mstr 10’s bedroom.

    Beautiful Normanville Beach
  3. Count backwards from 100.
  4. Book Mstr 10 in to get his ear checked as it is still blocked.
  5. Thought about what I had read in the first chapter of Life on the Other Side. There are people in this world that do indeed have psychic powers. It’s a physical thing in their DNA and there is scientific proof.  I can get my head around this part. What thoughts will chapter provoke.
  6. Count sheep.
  7. Didn’t work. Thoughts went back to the book. This lead me to think about Mum.  She is never far from my thoughts. Will this book bring me the clarity and answers that I have been seeking?  Will my brain allow me to be open to what is detailed and discussed in this book?
  8. This then led me to plan a morning tea to celebrate mum’s birthday in October with all her quilting friends and other close friends that she had.  Friends that were there for her and me over the years before and after she passed.  A high tea was what came to mind.  Cakes and bubbles.high tea
  9. Toilet
  10. Do my times tables, backwards, starting from 12.
  11. Compiled shopping list.  Need to buy milk, bananas, spaghetti. What shall we have for tea? Meat and veggies or soup?
  12. Need to get new passports.
  13. Last but not least, I wrote this paragraph for my book. Not sure where it will go. Maybe at the start? What do you think?

“Molly’s coffin was the smallest I have ever seen with my own eyes. Never in a million years did I think I would ever have to sit in a barely comforting room at the Funeral Home; flicking through what looked like junk mail to choose a coffin for my daughter.  To add to my distress and heartbreak and guilt ridden state, I also had to choose one for my husband.

Molly’s was barely a metre long.  I could hold it in my arms, like I held her as a baby. Like I held her to rock her to sleep; singing lullabies and soothing her.  Her head nestled into the nook of my elbow and her legs wrapped around my body.  Warm and soft, molding into me. I could wrap my arms around her coffin and link my fingers together underneath.  The strong wooden edges digging into my wrists.  She was just 5 years old, slight and petite with the finest features and unruly curly blond hair.  I chose a bright pink one as that was her most favorite colour.”


What do you think about in the middle of the night?

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