Rowan Tree and Red Thread

My daughter Rowan has had trouble sleeping the last few nights and woke just before 4am this morning. I sat with her for a while, holding her hand as she tried to get back to sleep. It was about 4.30 when she dozed off. At about 5.30 she was awake again, and Sam took her into the spare room to sleep with her propped up on some pillows. I think Rowan slept, but I know that Sam only dozed fitfully. This morning we were both shattered, moving slowly about the morning routines, pausing repeatedly to try and pull our fogged heads into shape.

I don't know what's been disturbing Rowan's sleep for the last few nights. I suspect it's her molars, as one of her gums feels like the tooth is near the surface, but it might be something else. She's waking suddenly, upset and more than a little bewildered. I hope it's not nightmares, as my brother suffered from them regularly as a child, and it's a terrifying thing for anyone, let alone a small person unable to understand the origin of the images.

The human brain is kind. Memories fade and the pains of yesterday are dulled. We suffered along with Rowan when she was younger and had many disturbed nights. Broken nights quickly build up, and left us ineffectual husks during the day. Until this recent bout of disturbed sleep Rowan had been sleeping well. I had more or less forgotten the dreadful half-awake hours in the middle of the night. The human brain is kind.

I can now dimly see the horror of that particular form of torture that robs someone of their sleep. Sleep deprivation is a terrible thing.