My tired eyes refuse sleep with reluctance, like an alcoholic refuses that last drink. Fear keeps my eyelids pinned open. Somewhere, drifting between extreme sleepiness and the need to be awake, I doze off. Only to wake up with a jerk. Groggy and disoriented, I walk up to his room. His CGM* reads 53. In panic I search hurriedly for the glucometer and the testing kit, fear making me butter-fingered. The commotion makes him stir. He looks up, gives me a lopsided smile and goes back to sleep. With trembling hands I take another reading…it reads 78. I sink to the floor shaking with relief. It is 3.00 am and sleep has bid me goodbye. I sit in the balcony waiting for dawn. Most nights are uneventful, some cause this drama. But fear has become a part of the night routine. The threat of hypoglycemia can do that.
Moon my namesake** smiles as I give her company I hide my heartache
Written for dVerse. Today’s host Frank says: Let’s feel the spooky sensation of this coming Halloween/Samhain! Let’s celebrate that emotion of dread. Let’s write our haibun that states or references fear.
*CGM: contant glucose monitor. Used to monitor glucose levels of diabetics, especially type 1. ( My fourteen year old son is Type 1 diabetic.)
**namesake: Punam in hindi language means the full moon.
Words, words, words! However much I write about them, there is always more to write. They gush forth like a river in spate, giving me no pause to stem their flow. They gurgle happily like an infant asking to be mollycoddled. They are like an earworm refusing to be quietened. They fall over each other clamouring to be captured and meet the eye of the reader.
It is often the paucity of time that puts breaks on their ride. Some wither away, some die with exhaustion and some go in hibernation refusing to be cajoled to grace the pages. Only the hardy ones survive to tell their tale.
Perhaps it is my pact with them that I will give voice to them without being judgemental which keeps them from deserting me.
Raindrops keep falling a backdrop to my musings constant thrum of words.
Written for dVerse. Today’s host Frank says: Feeling a little blocked? Vent about it! Have a story to tell about a recent writer’s block? Go for it? Never had writer’s block? Tell us your secret! However you approach it, write your haibun that alludes to this perennial frustration of writers.
The consent form for offline classes lies open on the desktop. To send or not to send is the dilemma we face. Our fourteen year old was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes a few months ago. He is excited at the idea of going back to school finally. But should we expose him to the possibility of infection? Is it worth the risk! I can’t overlook the fact that he is listless and inattentive during online classes. Missing live interaction with teachers and classmates. The most voluble student with a hundred queries now skulks in the virtual classroom.
He decides it is time for him to reclaim his life. With masks and sanitizers and the school staff completely vaccinated, we are ready to take a chance, albeit with trepidation!
The sun still burning clouds chasing each other could children do so
Written for dVerse. Frank Tassone says: Whether you begin a new school year yourself, you send your first (or last) to college, or you recall your own back to school adventures, write your haibun alluding to back to school!