Fear of Night

November 28 will mark the two year anniversary of my dissection experience.  I am really glad it happened then and I am somewhat 'fixed', at least  for a while.

But aren't we all here only a 'while'?  So every day I wake and am breathing is a blessing beyond any words I could write.  Each new morning's light is like a coffee break (I'll take espresso) in the long day of uncertainty.

However at the end of the day, as the sun sets, a sometimes subliminal fear sets in, a fear of not waking up.  I think this dread of the dark is a weaving of many thought currents not the least being the memory of my late night dissection and the severe panic and pain accompanying the aorta tear.

So at night I do not welcome that visitor of disquietude.  Yet it predictably comes.

I do not understand many things.  But I know this; it is good to wake up and take a breath.  For every new sunrise I am granted absolution from a darkness once more.

Maybe for me this reprieve is what grace is all about.