a silent lullaby
A lot of times, my husband lulled me to sleep. No, of course, he didn't sing. What he did was pat my head until I fell into a deep sleep.
Sometimes, there were days when I still had to work, and my husband fell asleep first. I could see him sleeping from my work desk, hugging a pillow like a big baby. Like tonight.
For me, sleep was something special. It was said that sleep was the time when we lost half our life—completely surrendering control to God and whoever was around us.
Sleep required a calm (or tired) mind; a brain that surrendered so the body could rest.
There were times when I couldn't sleep soundly. Or woke up because of shortness of breath. My breath just stopped midway, and I choked myself in the process.
But there were also times when I woke up with a nightmare or woke up with tears.
I was never aware of it until I finally slept with someone else in the same bed. My husband woke me up when I cried in the middle of the night. He patted my head until I could sleep again.
I didn't remember my dream, but it felt like a dream that trapped me inside. It was very difficult to find a way out.
As far as I remembered, before marriage and sleeping alone in my room, I often woke up with a headache. Or I chose to sleep with my sister in another room (different bed) because it felt calmer to sleep with someone familiar.
Since getting married—I didn't know why—gradually, the habit of crying in my sleep disappeared. My husband no longer needed to wake me up in the middle of a dream.
Even if I woke up, I just hugged my husband and he would hug me back; then I would continue to sleep soundly. And vice versa.
I'm grateful for him. For changed my restless nights into restful ones.