Between the Markers

The "holidays" created by Hallmark and a concerned daughter to honor parents have a pungent meaning to me these days. My dear mother died hours before Mother's Day and my father's death was just after Father's Day. So, now for that period between "Their Days" (this is actually the first episode since my mother died) each day resonates with their memories.
I can picture Mother's kitchen as my parents shared the humor in their own interment plans. In a mausoleum, high enough to "see" the interstate passing by, they wished to be laid to rest head to head. My Dad "facing" south toward his alma mater the University of Texas and my Mom "facing" north eyeing her beloved Baylor University. Thus positioned, they would continue to "butt heads" for eternity.
I do miss their laughter and nods of feigned disgust at each other's humor. Perhaps I could find a little comfort in a visit to their site to listen for the sounds of clashing craniums!

The Sweet Rest

Why is the sleep that are stolen from the day's earliest moments, the sweetest? Is it that, like all things outside the boundaries of expected behavior, this sleep has the suspense of adventure. Do we sleep with the challenge of making it on time or having to pay the consequences of being late quickening our pulses and feeding our addiction to adrenaline? Or is it the sensation of having settled the conflicts within our hearts in the earlier hours of REM sleep that allows peaceful rest? Is the bed now more conformed to our needs?
I don't know how those last moments become so dear, but I cherish them. At this hour when serene repose has escaped my existence and I am all alone in the dark, I can only "dream" of the joy of the sleep in the moments just before (and maybe a little after) the alarm.