Why is it that everything is always work at night?  When my children were little, nighttime brought on the high temps, the worries, the fear.  By morning, barely fuctioning, I would move slowly, exhausted from a fretful night. The children, however, seemed better. Fevers had broken and they were better.

My children are all parents now. They are up in the middle of the night with their children.  I am a grandmother. I am sixty.  Isn’t it time to be sleeping through the night? Shouldn’t I be planning my winter vacation to the Bahamas or Florida to sit on the beach with a book…lathered with sunscreen? Sipping martinis or pina coladas at 5 pm? Relaxing and enjoying life?

Nope. I am awake at night.  I worry about growing old. I worry about getting sick and having nobody to