Traveling to New Jersey for a good night’s rest
As we age, we appreciate a good night’s rest more and more. That’s why I’m happy to report that I got some of the best sleep I’ve had in a while during my East Coast vacation.
The precious slumber wasn’t because of overnight rains, cooler temperatures or just the right amount of tequila. And it wasn’t necessarily tied to extra exercise, balanced meals or a comfortable bed.
The true reason I slept like a baby was because all my babies were with me under one roof for five nights in a row. As my head hit the pillow, I didn’t have to pray that my children and grandchildren were out there in the world doing well. I knew for a fact that they were in fine shape because they, too, were hitting the hay just down the hall from me.
What a gift. And it was even better because the New Jersey house also sheltered other beloved family members. There were 18 of us in all. Good thing the son and his wife have a big house. We needed it.
And I needed the extra energy that a good night’s rest provides. We were on the go the whole time.
Not that I don’t sleep well in Havasu. I do. But I have to work at it, making sure I am in bed by 9 p.m. no matter what day it is. After a nasty bout with adult mononucleosis 20-some years ago, I am religious about getting eight hours of sleep. Every night. And if I can make it through the night without a trip to the bathroom, I am elated.
I gave all this sleep stuff some thought today on my way to work. Sleep quality is a daily topic in our household. Each morning, Mr. Honey and I ask each other how we slept. For us, our quality of sleep seems to set the tone for the day. We want to know how the other one scored.
We don’t always do well. “Too many goofy dreams. Felt like I was up all night.” “Couldn’t seem to get comfortable.” “I kept waking up.” “I was hot all night long.” “Foot cramp woke me.”
The worst is when Louie the cat wakes us in the wee hours. He is banished from the bedroom while we sleep. Still, he tries to open the closed bedroom door by attacking the French door handle. Louie fails spectacularly but makes a big racket. He wants food. Now.
We growl at Louie to knock it off. He retreats. We go back to sleep and give him what-for in the morning. We’ve been doing this for years.
I suppose we are lucky that we can go back to sleep when Louie storms the bedroom door, nature calls or after we’ve been roused by a band of noisy coyotes.
Casual conversations with others are often peppered with how poorly they’re sleeping. I feel so badly for them. A good night’s rest is truly prized.
Which is why I wish I could bottle that deep sleep I got while on vacation. I’d hoard some for myself and share the remainder. Because everyone deserves a good night’s rest. Even if you have to travel to New Jersey to get it.