Sleep's Dark and Silent Gate

My mom has a wonderful trait, which I am happy to say I have inherited. When Mom is tired, she can walk into her room, lie down, and go right to sleep. No racing thoughts, no worrying in the dark, no tossing and turning. Her head hits the pillow and, boom, she's out. She sleeps like a rock and wakes up refreshed, whether from her afternoon nap or from a night's rest.

Which makes it all the more wonderful that the last two nights of Dad's life here on earth, God woke Mom up. Saturday night and Sunday night, Mom spent a few hours sitting up with Dad. She talked with him and held his hand. I don't know what all they talked about, but Bill did hear Mom Sunday night say: "I love you, (last name). I'll be with you soon."

[I should explain that Mom's term of endearment for Dad was their last name. She explained it to Dave this way: "He has such an interesting last name, I don't feel like I need to think of a nickname."]