shadows

If I am being honest, it has been building for some time now. A comment here, an extra tight hug, a pleading look. Then it became more tearful, more assertive, and longer lasting.

It is the shadows he is afraid of. Darkness is too dark, a soft light is enough to make the shadows longer. The door opened lets in the hall light, but creates more leering shadows on his wall. Tearful and frightened, he can't be consoled. He sits in his bed and calls softly for us, "I want my Mommy." "Daddy?"

Tonight we sprayed the monster spray on his walls and under his bed and by the door and over by the window. I held him in my arms and sang to him once and then again. I even stood up with him on my shoulder, blanket tucked around him, and sang the same song I made up when Caroline was a baby that I sang to them both at bedtime.

It's time to go night night
Time to go to bed
Time to close your eyes
Time to rest your head

Holding him now, compared to then is utterly different and remarkably the same. His legs graze my knees now, but his hand still gently brushes my back. His fist rubs the satin edge of his blanket. The weight of him is heavier, but his head in the same familiar spot. It has been so long since I have sung him to sleep like that and though it does not have the same instant effect, it works wonders to calm and reassure him. I still got it.

He is awake still. Quiet, but awake and watching around his room afraid to close his eyes.


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