.
Rest:
every parents dream
as soon as the first
baby arrives.
There never seems
to be enough time
in a day
to work in sleep,
naps...
for child and mom !
.
Starting when
my children were young,
on Christmas morning
before 7 am,
gifts were open,
bickering began.
Nap time I thought.
Rest time for ME.
.
“He looked at me”
“No I didn’t”.
“He has my stocking”
“This is MINE”
Nothing major, but
tired me to the bone.
“Rest. I need REST”
my body and mind
hollered … silently,
and I continues on…
so much to do,
so littletime.
.
As they got older,
I worked on Christmas…
you can’t send patients,
all of them, home for
Christmas.
Nurses must work holidays.
.
At a “retirement home”,
long term care,
what ever you know them by,
it is the busiest day of the year,
it seemed to me.
.
Some visitors,
but most came the days
before the holiday.
Some had surprise visitors,
that was fun.
Some looked for visitors
that never came.
That was hard.
.
Sharpie markers
were needed
to mark the presents
before all the presents
endedup in a pile…
or some “traded”.
“To Mom,” “To Dad”
without a clue as
from whom the package
came … just a nick name
on the “from” line
or no name at all !
were puzzles to solve,
sometimes not til
spring or summer.
.
Presents “appeared”
for thosewho didn’t
have family
as staff and volunteers
worked hard to be sure
everyone had presents
to open.
(even those who said they
didn’t want any presents,
after we learned the hard
way that they really wanted
presents.)
.
It started sounding like home.
“He has my stocking,“
“No I don’t.…
This is MINE.“
“She looked at my gifts.“
“So what”
might be the reply.
.
By nap time, after lunch,
at home or at work.
it was on to
“What’s for supper.”
.
By the end of the shift,
I‘d be tired to the core
of my body and mind.
Young or old,
life stays the same.
Early to rise,
early to bicker 
Busy morning,
Naps all around !
.
.
Rest is good for the spirit.
.
.
.
.
siggiofmaine 