Snoring and a story

Well I haven't had a good nights rest since about...... I don't know...What is today? HA! As I lay there tossing and turning, trying to drown out my husbands snoring with thoughts of my own, I started giggling at what came to mind.

Growing up I was lucky enough to have 3 out of 4 of my grandparents. Both of my Dad's parents were alive and my Mom's father still walked the Earth. My Mom's mother died of ovarian cancer years before I was even a glimmer in my parents eyes. I plan on telling you stories of all of them, in due time. Today's story has to do with Grandpa(paternal grandfather). I love them all and miss them and I believe it is stories like these that keep them alive in our hearts. I hope you enjoy.

My Grandma and Grandpa's house sat upon on a hill in a small mountain town. It overlooked the valley and river and if you looked in the right spot you could see the entire town all from his front porch. Grandpa would go out there everyday and sit there. "Watching the movements of the people," he would say. That usually preceded his "eye resting"! Grandma would just roll her eyes and continue reading her Reader's Digest. Then while Grandpa was resting his eyes she would sneak off into the kitchen and get a snack. When we were almost done with our treat Grandpa would come into the breakfast nook and fain hurt feelings that he wasn't offered any. It as all an act and a routine, and we all knew it, but it was still fun to play.

On some occasions we would get to spend the night. My brother took a bed in the dining room(yes I said the didning room). My Mom and Dad took Ozzie and Harriet beds in the spare bedroom and I got the extra bed in Grandma and Grandpa's room. It was an old house so my brother and I just figured that is how all old houses were, sleeping arrangement wise. Now this is the part that got me giggling last night.....

In the room where I slept beside my bed at the foot of it was a window. I always hated that there was a window at the foot of the bed that I slept in. I would imagine that someone was peeking in at my feet and was gonna try and come in and get me. Then I would reassure myself that it was silly because the window wasn't ground level and they would need a ladder to do that and I would be able to hear the ladder and then I could et up and run away before they made it in. The thoughts you have when you are little and stick with you through the years huh?! I would nod off to sleep eventually and then proceed to have nightmares of a wooly booger with a chainsaw cutting through the house. The dream would go off and on all night until I would finally wake up in fear realizing the chainsaw wasn't in the dream it was actually in the room. The chainsaw would sputter and get quiet and then start back up. When I got older I finally realized it was my Grandpa snoring. The sputtering was Grandma jabbing him in the ribs. The quietness was him waking up to the jab. Then the cycle continued when he would nod back off to his dreamland. When morning would come I would get up and crawl into the bed and snuggle with Grandma. Grandpa would throw his arm over us and trap us and I would try to lift it and the only way I could get us free was to wake up Grandpa. There wasn't one trick that would work every time, I had to come up with different ways to wake the chainsaw beast.

Over breakfast Grandma would ask how my brother and I slept. My brother never had any problems sleeping. I would give her the answer I thought she wanted to hear. We then would clean up the dishes and start breakfast number 2. The first round was toast or cereal with Grandma and Grandpa. The second one was orange sweet rolls with Mom and Dad. To say that there was a routine would be the understatement of the decade.

Years later when my Grandma was dieing and they were in a new house just down the road in the town that I lived in, my Grandma told me that she knew I was a fighter. I thought this was odd. I don't have a terrible temper and as far as I knew the temper I do have I was pretty sure she hadn't seen. So I asked her why she thought that. She then proceeded to tell me of the times that I spent the night with her and would talk in my sleep. I was always saying "NO." "Leave me alone." "Go away." etcetera, etceteras. I began giggling then too. I explained to her what was happening in my dreams and the thoughts I had before I had gone to sleep. I hadn't told anyone about this up until this point....except my brother. He, by the way, thought that I was weird until one night when we switched beds. Grandma and I laughed until we were in tears. She stuck by her original statement although there were other reasons beside the dream talking that gave her this idea. I don't know if she was right or not but I like to think that she was.

So that is the story. I have to be careful when I start reminiscing because I get carried away and tell things that aren't relevant to the original story. I have tons of these stories floating around in my head. If I get a good response from this one I just may have to tell some more.