Before glancing at the clock, I feel a frown forming across my face. Once again, I’m awake at that nebulous hour of 4:00 am, when it’s no longer the middle of the night. Nor is it morning. It’s close, but even on the longest of June days, robins would still be only dreaming of worms.
Whether the culprit is hormones or Parkinson’s – or a wicked conspiracy between the two – I am gazing at the bed, not lying in it. My trusty service dog snores from on his bed. To his credit, he opened one eye when I rose. I fluffed his fleece blanket and gave him a pat. No point in both of us being up.
My thoughts seek solace. ‘At least I slept some,’ they begin. ‘I can nap later today.’ The most comforting of these is when I consider that someone else living with PD is up now, too. Are you wandering to the laundry room like I sometimes do to fold some clothes that have been in the dryer since before yesterday? Maybe doing a crossword puzzle? Carrying a blanket to the comfy chair in the living room to try sleeping again?
I wonder: If each of us could take a few seconds to send a wish – a mental message, a prayer if you pray, a breath of goodwill – to someone else who’s up stumbling about with their PD. Imagine the ripple effect across the globe of that moment of mindfulness. It’s enough to lull me back to sleep, with a smile.