Too little time, too many facts

February 10th, 2009

A nocturne to the strains of a full moon.

Mommy, don’t be mad I can’t go to sleep.

Make your mind empty. No thoughts. No pictures.

You mean like a TV screen that goes blank?

Yes, blank.

I don’t want to grow up.

I’ll always be with you.

How old was I when your mommy died?

Not yet two.

It’s sad that I didn’t get to see her or know her.

She watches you every night when you sleep.

Then she must be watching someone else tonight.

No, she’s right here, waiting for you to go to sleep so she can come to you in your dream.

Mommy, don’t be mad I can’t go to sleep.

Are you nervous about something?


What is it?

We have a timed test tomorrow and there are too many facts.

Facts don’t matter. Make your mind blank like the night sky. Without the moon.



I really love you.

I’ll always be with you.


  1. so true.

    Comment by Bridge — February 10, 2009 @ 5:58 am

  2. Beautifully Serene dear one! (Hugs)Indigo

    Comment by Indigo — February 10, 2009 @ 2:36 pm

  3. Aw how wonderul an interaction!

    Comment by Cat — February 10, 2009 @ 4:16 pm

  4. This is beautiful. I think I may have to borrow your words for my little ones. Thank you for sharing this wonderful moment.

    Comment by Sharon Delman — February 10, 2009 @ 5:33 pm

  5. I’ll always love you.

    Are you nervous about something? This is the moment that got me.

    Comment by jena strong — February 10, 2009 @ 5:43 pm

  6. thank you so much for this. i read this after a very frustrating 30 minutes of trying to get my nine month old to sleep. now i’m in tears over how little patience i can have sometimes and truly taken by your words.

    Comment by megan — February 10, 2009 @ 6:22 pm

  7. Oh, thanks for this. It is just beautiful.

    Comment by Michelle — February 10, 2009 @ 7:18 pm

  8. Megan, don’t let me fool you into being unduly hard on yourself. The “me” I wish to be is always hidden in the between the lines of who I am. I simply edited out the many times I said, with a mother’s warrior-like compassion: GO TO SLEEP RIGHT NOW!!!
    Luckily, we have many opportunities to do it again differently.

    Comment by Karen Maezen Miller — February 10, 2009 @ 7:49 pm

  9. That full moon.

    Editing. If I could just take more time to edit myself in real life …

    This really is a beautiful post.

    Comment by Mrs. B. Roth — February 10, 2009 @ 10:01 pm

  10. I am in awe of you all that get your children to go to sleep. Mine slept with me until they were at least 10 and never once did they sleep through the night. AND I miss those precious times so much. I still do not sleep through the night. I miss my mommy.

    Comment by Kathleen Botsford — February 11, 2009 @ 12:43 am

  11. Indigo Dreams meditation cd’s. The answer to my oldest’s sleep issues. Don’t know where I would be without them.

    How great to lead them to sleep with confidence and trust.

    Comment by underthebigbluesky — February 11, 2009 @ 1:44 am

  12. There are always too many facts.

    Comment by Shalet — February 11, 2009 @ 6:00 am

  13. Sometimes one is too many.

    Comment by Karen Maezen Miller — February 11, 2009 @ 6:03 am

  14. *sniff*

    My little one has started to say “sweet dreams” and “I love you” and “cozy” when we cuddle before sleep.

    The whole bit about believing that someone who is dead is watching over loved ones left behind makes me wistful. How does one KNOW this? I would like to be able to say it, but I need to know it is true, and there is no way to prove it. Being a skeptic can be lonely.

    Comment by Kathryn — February 11, 2009 @ 6:05 am

  15. One day you will know it by the only means it is ever made known. And poof! One less skeptic to get in your way.

    Comment by Karen Maezen Miller — February 11, 2009 @ 6:29 am

  16. What a beautiful post.

    Comment by christy — February 13, 2009 @ 4:17 am

  17. double sniff. sometimes its like youre in my head. where did you find the key?? i am now struggling with a 1’year’old who is having a tough time going it alone at night and i feel so much guilt for just wanting to snuggle her through darkest part of the night cuz i see this as the first bit of independence.

    your story reminds me we are always there, even when we are not touching.

    Comment by latisha — February 13, 2009 @ 7:12 am

  18. “Luckily, we have many opportunities to do it again differently.”

    This is becoming one of my mantras of motherhood.

    Oh, the lessons they teach us.

    Comment by Nikole — February 22, 2009 @ 2:36 pm

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