4:52
2011: When it was just me
I love the quiet of early mornings. There is a sleepy luxury that comes from having hours at my disposal to do anything. This is time-unspoken-for. At 4:52am, I’ve been up for 15 minutes, I’ve read my email, logged on to the socials, read an acquaintance’s blog, and thought (just thought) about running. All of this is strictly unnecessary … but I get to do these things at 4:52 with delicious guilt-free abandon.
Later today I will need to deal with the people in my life – professional, personal, the people in my neighbourhood, whoever they may be. In this pre-dawn, pre-awake moment, I can enjoy them anyway I want. The ones I love, love me back wholeheartedly. I am someone else’s dream and I have no failures.
At 4:52, I am strong and powerful. I am decisive. I am clever, solving elusive problems. I love and I am loved. I am sexy and irresistible. I am healthy. I am a woman of integrity. I am anything I want to be. There is no one awake in my world to tell me I am wrong (not yet.) I am delighted.
In an hour, I need to be getting ready for the day. In two, I should be on my way. In three, my work day will be beginning. But for now, time is at my disposal. I can do anything I want. Except make time stop.
2020: When my babies were babies
I find myself awake at 4:52 again, this time with a buddy. It’s been two years since I last had a buddy like this and at least six years since I last enjoyed the company of my own thoughts this early.
Today, at 4:52, I stared into his perfect eyes. He smiled at me, kicked a little, and then told me in his talk-y way that he was hungry. I fed him. Each time I feed him, it’s one time closer to the last time I will feed a baby at all. And yet, I can feed him. My body gave me this gift, this time.
At 4:52, I enjoy being a mother. There are no other demands on my time. Just me and this love. And if my daughter wakes up, we have room for her too. She will climb up, snuggle in closer and look at the baby with me. Then she will roll over and fall sleep, next to me.
It’s 4:52 and there is nothing I’d rather be doing, no one I’d rather be with, and no place I’d rather be. Everything is perfect at 4:52am.
2024: When the exhaustion wears off
A strange thing happened. I found 4:52am again. Maybe this elusive magic hour found me again, after years of clinging to every hour of sleep I could find.
At 4:52 I find the woman I used to be. The world is quiet. Time stretches out in front of me, seeping with potential. Inspiration comes easily. I build the thing I’m building and it’s perfect. I wish I could stay here forever.
In sixty-eight minutes, I will hear little feet padding around on a search. My buddy will find me.
Mom, can you hang out with me? Of course.
I will close my laptop and whisper a tiny goodbye to the moment slipping away. He will slip into my lap with a stuffie named Bob. His big sister will join us later. Maybe she will read to us. And I’ll wish I could stay there forever, too.