The Fog of Morning

I think I finally awoke when I realized I had taken my allergy pill twice. Just once was enough to make me stare into oblivion for 5 minute intervals, twice - I don't know. The foible left me very annoyed as I had to contemplate how to survive the work day.

Plumes of white steam rose straight to the sky from the surviving factories in suburbia, briefly crossed by the silhouettes of a triangle of geese. Spring frost covered the more insulated parts of rooftops and lawns and decks.

A green garbage truck stood balanced on its back end with the front lift retracted clear underneath the chassis. The electric motor revved as 4 year old Jospeh tried to move the lift ever lower. The surviving fish in our rectangle tank seemed to take it all in with one eye.

"Want go in Daddy's car, might now." 2-and-a-half year old Declan began his campaign from the night before to ride in my car. His determination seemed to have increased and he wrapped his arms around my legs and looked up at me for emphasis. "Want go in Daddy's car, might now."

I had woken up with a severe leak in the mask of my CPAP machine. 9 lbs of pressure were blowing across my left cheek and into my ear. I could tell by the dashboard on the clock that the radio alarm was going off, though I couldn't hear a thing. I tried to think through the steps: radio off, CPAP off, mask and straps off - in that order.

2 month old Joshua was already beginning his own wake-up process which could last the better part of an hour. His one sleeping position was on his back, hands up on each side like a hold-up, head turned straight to the right, and face as close to the edge of the bassinet as he could get it. His morning began with miniature grunts and squeaks, and stretches where he would pull up both legs and arch his back. After about 30 minutes the grunts and squeaks would escalate to short whines interspersed with episodes of sleep. 30 more minutes and the whines would escalate into a loud, un-ignorable cry.

Joshua was rapidly outgrowing his bassinet, a white wicker structure at the foot of our bed with red ribbons tied around the edges. His brothers loved this piece of furniture as it was low enough for them to get their heads inside and deliver kisses, as well as toothbrushes, apples, toy trucks, books, and a bug vacuum. The best and most forbidden pleasure was rolling the bassinet on its wheels.

A long distant childhood friend had turned up at my workplace, with his looks amazingly unchanged.

"Everyone here is in awe of you," he said.

"Why's that" was all I could come up with.

Incredulous, he responded "Because you work such late hours."

"That's the only time some people are accessible."

I felt awkward but I also felt good about myself. After this episode I had had the recurring dream that I was not married to my wife. This dream was always troubling because I was not sure how to win her over and I knew I could not live without her.

I then remembered a crying boy had woken me in the night. I found Joseph uncovered with his big stuffed doggy on the floor. Pulling the covers up over his cheeks, I simultaneously tucked the dog under his arm so that his arm was around the neck of the soft creature.

I then remembered another crying boy at some other time. Declan was lying down in his crib, but in the dark I could clearly feel his mouth was minus a binky. I ran both hands over every inch of the crib mattress, under his blanket and animals, under his body. On my hands and knees, I then began moving my hands over the carpet underneath and around his crib, anxious to feel rubber and plastic.

"You took your mask off last night and did not put it back on," my wife reminded me.

This I did not remember, nor how or when I got it back on.

The frost on our deck was thick, and in my imagination turned to snow. At one point we had a bird feeder (prior to the mouse invasion).