Getting a decent night's sleep has eluded me. It doesn't matter what time I go to bed, sleeping through the night has become elusive. Night after night, my eyes pop open at two, three or four o'clock, I get up, wander around a bit, try going back to bed hoping sleep will come again. Sometimes it does, for a little while, sometimes I remain up for whatever is left of the overnight hours.
Once in a while I wander into the living room, settle on the sofa and read a bit from a book I've started. Occasionally, the reading sessions last until sunrise.
None of this surprises me. This problem started several months ago and has only escalated recently. There have been some nights when I've managed to sleep almost all night but those are few and far between. But there are days when I find myself napping so I guess sleep comes when it's really needed.
While I'm up in the wee hours, my memories of our life together surface and I spend time remembering so many happy, wonderful things. I remind myself how lucky we were that we had each other for over fifty years. If my sleepless nights are filled with loving memories, it's a good price to pay.