Night Lights

Warm summer sun, shine kindly here. Warm summer wind, blow softly here. Green sod above, lie light, lie light. Good night, dear Heart. Good night, good night.

- Mark Twain

I never really used a night light growing up. Sure, when we were kids spending the night in my mom's old room at Cha-Cha's house, we'd always have the bathroom light on with the door cracked. But those were special times with special girls, and it was usually just so we could stay up 'till the wee hours driving my mom and Aunt Rita crazy with our incessant chatter and laughter. As an adult, I grew to sleep in a room that's pitch dark.

That changed when we moved to this house. The green light from the alarm panel and smoke detector cast a faint glow in our bedroom. When I was suffering from migraines, I'd have Mike tape something over them so I could sleep in peace. But once that problem subsided, the tape came down and the effluence resumed.

When I was pregnant, I reluctantly added a night light to our bathroom for my incessant nightly visits.

Then we had the Peachick. And another glow was added to our bedroom in the form of her AngelCare monitor. I often lie awake for hours, watching the reassuring pendulum showing me that her heart is still beating and that she's still breathing.

Even more nocturnal light was shed throughout our house in the path from our bedroom to hers, as I was terrified somebody would trip on a bouncy seat or squeaky toy. The last thing we need around here is a broken bone. And there's a warm glow in her bedroom at night so we can pick her up and rock her at all hours without fully waking her up when the monster fusses in her sleep. So I've grown into appreciating the guidance provided by these tiny devices picked up at the Kroger.


All this baby care is exhausting and time-consuming. So to ensure that we have at least five minutes together - just Mike and me - every day, we have started reading Night Light by Dobson. Now that he can resume the ritual of lying on my belly just before we go to sleep, I'll put aside whatever inane novel I'm working on and pick up this book to read one of the one-page-long devotionals. Sure, it has some sections that feel silly or cheesy to talk about, but it's shedding new light on our marriage, and I love how we are glowing. We sometimes fall asleep chatting about that devotional's topic.

So now I suppose I've come a full 360 degrees, back to the little girl huddled in my mom's old bed, once again loving the light at night and the people whom it illuminates.

Artwork courtesy of David Castillo.