I drove on after the rainbows. By then, there were only two. Kept them in my sight as long as possible; eyes on the sky as two turned into just one, and one eventually misted away, as well.
We might have stopped at the store. It seems like we would have/should have, but I don’t recall that happening.
We might not have, though, because we ended up at The Hoagie Man for take-home cheesesteaks. No fries. We’d been on US 223. Coming from M52 would have been either a double-back or a detoured, long way home.
No idea what time we got home.
No idea what we did after dinner, or before.
No idea what time we went to bed.
We did go to bed, together. Most of the time we did.
Jeff would stay until he’d thought I’d fallen asleep. If he fell asleep with me, he’d likely wake within an hour. At times, I’d be hovering in the twilight. Not quite asleep, yet, I would hear him get up.
It was an aural thing. I rarely felt his movements, due to the California king-size, split into two twin XL mattresses, on our multi-directional, adjustable electric bed.
We’d purchased the ultra-expensive sleep set-up so that Jeff could sleep with his legs raised. I used the features more than he did, though. Head up, legs up. I enjoyed the massage feature.
That’s wasn’t Jeff’s favorite feature. At first, the vibrating caused heebee jeebee chills and ticklish grunt-giggling. Later, it intensified the neuropathy – the painful kind. He really preferred to lie flat. There was never any adjusting needed when Jeff returned to bed at some later, early morning hour.
No idea if he got up or not after I fell asleep. So, I also have no idea what his sleep cycle was like that night.
This is all kind of murky; and non-impactful, anyway.
I woke up to laughter. Technically, it was October 1st; sometime between 1:30 – 2:00 AM.
Big huge belly laughs, faded into shoulder shaking chuckles. I noticed he’d slipped his PAP mask off.
It wasn’t unusual from him to remove it, unconsciously, in his sleep.
It wasn’t unusual for me to slip it back on him if I happened to wake up. Since I rarely slept through the night, this was a fairly routine, routine.
“Are you awake?” I asked, knowing it wasn’t likely.
When he didn’t respond, I tried, again. “Jeff?”
He smiled, then sighed, and simply began softly snoring.
He seemed to have settled down from what I imagine was probably a highly hilarious, rather raucous, dream adventure.
I rolled out of bed, fished the mask from the floor and replaced it.
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