March 11th, 2024
Asher is asleep in my bed. Asher is three years old, and he generally sleeps with me. I usually go to bed quite early. Asher will barge into my room just after I doze off and shout,
“Grandpa! I want a bottle (of oat milk)!”
I mumble from under the comforter, “I’m not getting up to get you a bottle.”
“But I want a bottle.”
“I’m not getting up.”
There is a pause as Asher stands in the darkness at the edge of the bed, then he says,
“I want to cuddle.”
The bed mattress is thick and high, so I reach over the edge and grab his little hand to pull the boy on to the bed. He clamors aboard.
I ask him, “Do you want to lie on top of the covers or underneath.”
He makes a choice and then I cradle him in my arms. Asher slowly relaxes. His breathing becomes calm and regular. Within minutes the little guy is fast asleep.
I often fall asleep along with him. I wake up hours later with my right hand numb and tingling because his heavy head has been resting on my bicep. I slowly and cautiously slide my arm from underneath his noggin.
Sometimes, Asher sleeps restlessly. He rolls around. He occasionally cries in his sleeps. Sometimes, but not often, he chuckles softly to himself. Amazingly, I have discovered that a toddler can take up an entire Kingsize bed. Sometimes, when he lies on his back spreadeagled, he is absolutely still. I have to place my hand on his chest to find out if he is breathing. Sometimes, I touch his wrist with my forefinger to check for a pulse. He’s alive, but he’s deep in a world I cannot reach.
Asher wakes up at least twice every night. I hear his voice in the darkness.
“Grandpa, carry me.”
“Where are we going?”
“In the kitchen.”
“Why?”
“I want a bottle.”
I carry him into the kitchen. His head lies heavily on my right shoulder. I make him a bottle. We sit in an armchair and he drinks from it. He falls asleep. After several minutes, I rise up and carry him back to bed. The cycle begins anew.
Why does Asher sleep with me? I don’t know. We have much sadness and anxiety in our house. I know that he can sense that. Perhaps, he feels safe with me. Perhaps, I can ease his mind. I don’t know.
All I know is that he wants to be with me, at least at night.
Frank is Emptiness 