I think I may be an elf. One of J.R.R. Tolkien’s elves to be precise. I love low light. Our TV is downstairs in the family room, but you can usually find me upstairs in the evening sitting with my Chromebook. The little light is on in the curio cabinet in the living room. The little light is on in the china hutch in the kitchen (as well as a string of little white lights on top of it that are woven through some greenery). And in the stairwell is a 6″ high glass lamp with a nightlight in it so we can see to go up and down stairs in the dark. I am totally content and at peace to sit here in that dim light and let all the day’s cares go watch TV for awhile.
But darkness is an entirely different matter. I’m one of those people whose mind won’t shut off when they go to bed. I will repeat every conversation I had during the day to see if I could have given better advice or if I’ve offended anyone. I worry about things I did or didn’t do, what’s going on tomorrow, what needs to be done. And if I run out of things to fret over for me, I can always mentally rearrange the kids’ or Drollery’s life so THEY won’t have to fret over their own!
Trouble is, it’s not always just things from that day or the next that I worry about. Sometimes the past comes back to haunt me in the darkness. Those can be bad nights. The darkness is a breeding grown for nightmares long past. And the older I’ve gotten, the more I’ve realized that monsters don’t just live under the bed or in the closet. If you were to quickly shine a flashlight in my eyes in the middle of the night, you might even see one retreating behind my pupils. Getting to know yourself can sometimes be a scary thing…