Tony began to retire upstairs earlier in the evening. He was at his best in mornings. By late afternoon his energy was spent, he tried his best to stay upright for an hour after eating to let his supper settle. He needed more help preparing for bed, and our established routine was that he would call down when he was as ready as he could be. I would help him then with the intricacies of managing overnight incontinence.
Bad dreams recurred and he was sometimes apprehensive about closing his eyes; a CD of soothing music eased him, and I sat with Tony quietly until his body relaxed.
A sachet of lavender flowers under his pillow and a drop of essential oil on the soles of his feet helped. Our little dog would snuggle close to Tony, his presence comforted. It often made me smile when the two would start to snore, or worse—their involuntary flatulence included neither acknowledgement or apology!
Most recently, my own sleep has been fretful. I thought about trying a few squirts of scented lavender spray on the mattress to soothe.
My bedroom smelled sweet and inviting, I threw back the covers and settled onto the fresh sheets with anticipation.
With an irreparable back injury, it’s not easy to leap up or out. Somehow, in my zeal, I overpumped the dispenser and an emergency escape from clouds of scent left me no option but to scramble.
Leaning against the wall, I began to giggle. My soulful thoughts took me back to a time of sweet remembrance when Tony and Buddy warmed my bed in sonorous slumber.
Last night, that simple memory soothed my soul.