Sleeping and Breathing

"I miss them." "Oh, you just miss them sleeping and breathing in the house?" "Yeah." Alone now, I lay down on the couch. Sometimes I just like to pass out, even in my clothes. I like to sleep on the couch that way. A sharp alarm sounds from an insect. I think at first it is mechanical. It wakes me and then I fall asleep in spite of it. My boots are still on and at one point, not very far into rest, I take off the boots and get in bed. I fall asleep. The phone rings. Urgency. I think they are hurt, something has happened. "He's sick, like that time. He wants you." I really can barely piece it together. As bad as the time in OR? Is the ambulance coming? Is he turning blue? I get in the car and the drive across town feels like it takes forever. I lived over here as a girl and now my boys are sleeping on the same street. With the same periodic traffic. Finally, I arrive. He is bundled outside. He smiles "Hi Mama" No, not like last time, but he wanted me, so I came. Tonight, the little one is asleep and the bigger is up with me. I hear the alarm again and find the insect with an antennae trapped in a bit of web. We help it detach and the alarm ends. It eagerly moves on, finally free. But he is still singing in the house. Is he thirsty? Maybe he just wants out now. Ever since I lived with the insects, I feel connected to them, when I let myself think that much about them. The boys enjoy them. Tonight they are sleeping and breathing here. That feels better.