Twitter: All Fall in Book Two: The Fifteenth Year of the Third Millennium of the Common Era

I’m reasonably certain this post could be debated. Either I’m a sentimental fool or an immature child. I’m fairly sure both descriptions fit me.

Sometimes… on nights like tonight… where the immensity of everything weighs too heavily upon me… where I can’t begin to contemplate sleep because my mind is too focused (though it may be focused on events that cannot be changed)… sometimes… rarely… the voice of my mother comes to me from long ago… the Bedtime Ritual that was so much a staple of my childhood. And the songs come back to me in pieces… scattered… fragmented… but I remember my mother singing, rubbing my back and making me feel like… even if only for that one night… sleep was acceptable because there was nothing that could ever change the Three Fundamental Truths… God loves me, my parents love me, and there was never anything I could do to change either one of those things.

Last updated January 05, 2016