I truly thought it was a pillow between us as I tossed and turned last night, but I realized he had crawled into bed with us and the space felt crowded.
I was hot.
I was cold.
I couldn’t get comfortable. Every time I drifted to sleep, he found a way to wake me up, whispering his tidbits of disturbance into my ear.
How he had found his way into our room, I do not know. I couldn’t tell if he was bothering her as well, but I did notice she was tossing and turning too.
By the time I got out of bed he, of course, was gone with not a trace in sight of him save for the lack of sleep I evidenced.
He was in my head.
He was part of a Monday that came much too quickly.
In my thoughts he had left residue of deadlines, overdue items, bills to pay, friends fighting illness and overwhelming mourning.
He had awakened concern and worry spanning geographies across Florida, New Jersey and Connecticut.
He didn’t care about what he had left behind.
When I saw my wife later as we prepared breakfast in the kitchen, I could tell he had managed to work her up as well.
Reality doesn’t pick and choose who he is going to disturb, who he is going to visit and who he is going to jump into bed with uninvited.
Unfortunately, long after he’s gone, he lingers and sometimes, not in a good way.