Everything is Snoring

I am awake. And I have been since 4 a.m. The Benedictines, who follow a liturgy of the hours that involves praying seven times a day starting at around 4 a.m., describe this first hour of prayer as "matins" or "vigils." It is supposed to be a good time to worry about things, or try not to worry about them. Alas, I cannot not worry. I can only listen. To Jason, snoring lightly in my ear every time he rolls onto his back (I keep rolling him over onto his side. Gently. And sometimes not so gently). To Ramona, who I think has some kind of dog sleep apnea. To the air conditioner, which also seems to be snoring (and coughing and generally struggling to breathe).

And to Lu, who is the reason I am awake in the first place. She cried out a couple of times in her sleep. I wonder what she is dreaming about. When I have asked her, she tells me "I dream about a wolf" or "I dream about a fox" or sometimes simply "stars," which I find very sweet. I want to go in there now and check on her, but this is the fragile hour — like me, if she stirs now, she is likely to be awake, awake, awake. For the moment though, she is among the stars. I am among the snores.