Thursday, 22 February 2018

The Rhythm of Not Sleeping

I often rock my baby to sleep at the witching hour. These can be the hours when thoughts, either darkly vivid or hazily formed out of interrupted sleep, stray to mournful or anxious things. But on this night, my mind is pleasantly occupied with thoughts of my beloved grandmother who died a decade ago. My […]

from
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/goodletters/2018/02/12394/

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