forgetting
Has he ever woken up in the morning and not remembered what he did the night before?
No, but he used to worry about it. At eleven it was his greatest fear. The night his mother died he stayed in bed for hours willing himself to stay awake. He wasn’t worried God would take him while he slept, no matter what kind of disturbing images the sadistic little prayer his grandmother taught him conjured.
He didn’t sleep that night. He didn’t sleep the night after. He valiantly tried not to sleep the night after that and the night after that. It was a losing battle.
But he couldn’t let himself relax. He stayed in bed, staring at his ceiling, reminding himself over and over again about his mother’s illness, her death, the funeral, the horde of people in his house and the mountain of pity casseroles in his freezer. It wasn’t the sort of thing he was likely to forget.
But forgetting? Nothing ever seemed so scary.
Ever since his mother’s first trip to the hospital, the air felt just a little heavier. Sometimes it felt a lot heavier. But there was comfort in the heaviness.
What scared him was the day when he woke up and the air felt light. What scared him was the inevitable moment when his mind, still groggy with sleep, tricked him into believing she was still there.
The crushing blow of believing she was downstairs cooking bacon and putting a pot of coffee on, and realizing she wasn’t… that she never would be again… that was more than he could manage.
Eventually he fell asleep. He couldn’t stay awake forever. And when he woke up the next morning, he hadn’t forgotten. He hadn’t forgotten at all.
Luke Danes
Gilmore Girls
275
No, but he used to worry about it. At eleven it was his greatest fear. The night his mother died he stayed in bed for hours willing himself to stay awake. He wasn’t worried God would take him while he slept, no matter what kind of disturbing images the sadistic little prayer his grandmother taught him conjured.
He didn’t sleep that night. He didn’t sleep the night after. He valiantly tried not to sleep the night after that and the night after that. It was a losing battle.
But he couldn’t let himself relax. He stayed in bed, staring at his ceiling, reminding himself over and over again about his mother’s illness, her death, the funeral, the horde of people in his house and the mountain of pity casseroles in his freezer. It wasn’t the sort of thing he was likely to forget.
But forgetting? Nothing ever seemed so scary.
Ever since his mother’s first trip to the hospital, the air felt just a little heavier. Sometimes it felt a lot heavier. But there was comfort in the heaviness.
What scared him was the day when he woke up and the air felt light. What scared him was the inevitable moment when his mind, still groggy with sleep, tricked him into believing she was still there.
The crushing blow of believing she was downstairs cooking bacon and putting a pot of coffee on, and realizing she wasn’t… that she never would be again… that was more than he could manage.
Eventually he fell asleep. He couldn’t stay awake forever. And when he woke up the next morning, he hadn’t forgotten. He hadn’t forgotten at all.
Luke Danes
Gilmore Girls
275