Digging Up Parallel Memories

It’s funny how random things can spur and light a dormant memory.

It’s the first night back home from our latest trip to Greenville. This time HG is crankier than normal because of his procedure, so sleeping soundly through the night isn’t in the cards.

Fast forward to myself taking a “shift” with our fussy boy, who has now doubled down on the crankiness because of a bit of gas, and it’s a fun, dazed, middle-of-the-night adventure.

There are attempts at consoling, dancing, laying down, but we eventually find ourselves in the rocking chair in front of the TV.

I don’t have a recliner (yet) so we’re talking about an old-school, wooden rocking chair. Maybe not the most comfortable of all chairs, but who cares? We have found that magical equation to soothe the savage infant!

As we rock (technically I’m rocking and he’s the passenger) he’s finally relaxing a bit and allowing himself to fall asleep. As we’re in this moment of calm after rocking through a storm of squalls, a random recollection pops into my sleep-craved brain. Let’s call it a parallel memory.

As I’m sitting there, rocking my son in the middle of the night, I’m suddenly remembering Dad being the one who would be up with me when I had earaches in the middle of the night.

I’ve never really thought of my Dad as a consoling or comforting type. He’s a fixer, sure, but a straight-edged fixer vs a soft and cuddly one.

But here I am, rocking my son, thinking back to when Dad would lay on the couch downstairs, having me lay on his chest with whichever ear was bothering me.

It’s funny how the brain and memory works. How rocking my son in the middle of the night, in the middle of a bellyache and pain, triggers a memory way back from my childhood.

Sure, the memory is faded, I’m sure some of the finer details are wrong, but the memory is still there. A memory that was long forgotten before now.

I wonder what memories HG will have of me in 30 years. What memories of mine may still be waiting to be unlocked by a random event in the middle of the night?

Who knows? All I do know is that for now, this dad is tired, and instead of sleeping while his son and wife are, he’s writing.

So for now, goodnight and good morning.

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