First time ( around midnight?)- my adult children playing video games in the living room (door way is about 15 feet from my room) woke me up. I could hear them whispering to each other to be quiet. I was too tired to get out of bed to kick them to their rooms.
Second time – my daughter, who has the job of letting the dogs out for the last time of the day, had problems with a dog and – she was trying to be quiet – woke me up whispering loudly at one who wasn’t listening to her.
Third time – Woke up. No idea why. Realized DH had left the room and pulled the door shut instead of turning the handle to shut it quietly. It makes a very loud sound when you pulled it straight to shut it. Thanks, dear. He knows extra sounds wake me up. I can sleep through him blow-drying his hair in the morning, because it’s a known sound (if that makes sense). Out of place sounds wake me up as do loud sounds.
An hour before my alarm went off (before sunrise) – dishes being clattered and the garbage disposal being run by DH woke me. It’s about 20 feet from my bedroom door. Oddly enough, when I got out of bed 30 minutes late, not a single thing was washed. The dishes I had washed prior to going to bed were still in the dish drainer. I’m still trying to figure that one out. I’m trying to keep my thinking away from him deliberately doing it which he has done in the past, because he was mad over the dishes. He’s passive-aggressive like that. I’m the opposite; I just say what I’m thinking.
To say that I was cranky when I finally got out of bed is an understatement. Thankfully, no one other than DH was up and he didn’t talk to me.
After taking care of the dogs, cleaning and refilling water for the livestock, I stepped outside into the 10 degree weather to carry the water to waiting animals. Walking through the kennel, I opened the door and stepped on to the path that leads to the coop and barn (ducking under the crossbar thank you very much). My breath vapor filled my view. It was like a curtain rising as it cleared, and I stopped moving.
Not a sound. No birds. No goats. No chickens. Nothing. Just snow brilliantly white from the sun’s reflection, and my breath clouding my vision then clearing.
In that moment, I felt my internal struggles calm and still. Closing my eyes, I just stood there and listened to absolutely nothing.
A question to God began to form, yet before it finished I heard a bird call. One lone bird in the quiet. A bird we only hear in the Spring to Fall. I don’t know what it is. I only know its song. It tells me Spring will soon be here. It signals new life, hope, warmth…
Slowly I open my eyes, because snow blindness is not on my list of things to accomplish today, and look around me. Snow on the trees, untouched snow on the ground sparkling, squirrels begin chattering and chasing one another across the tops of the pines, other birds begin singing, a neighbor’s dog barks. Life starting a new day.
And deep down I know it may not be easy, there may be times I want to quit, but no matter what happens, in the end I’m going to be okay. He’s got this.