Morning Through My Eyes

(swish swish swish swish)
What. What?
(swish swish swish swish)
What is that noise? What is that moving on my face?
(swish swish swish swish)
(right eye opens)
Please, Lord. No. The room! It is not dark. Is it ... mourning. Already? Could it be? Nooooooooooooo... it is mourning.
(swish swish swish swish)
What IS ... ceiling fan. Oh.
(low rumble. higher pitched rumble. consecutive non-ending rumbles)
Pleeeease turn the noise down. Could those be cars? Why are cars driving at this time of the mourning?
(close right eye. Quickly enter low level dream mode. Sandra Bullock walks up and readjusts my Cubs cap. She looks me up and down. She gives me a thumbs-up and tosses me my mitt. I look at the field but before I can run out there she begins fanning me with palm branches and feeding me grapes. I hear a low rumble...)
Wait. WAIT! DON'T GO! That's a truck. Where did Sandra go? Where's my ball glove? Nooooooooo.... God. If you can hear me make it midnight again. You know. Just a simple way of saying, "I love you." I promise I'll go to church Sunday.
(Feed my sheep.)
Huh? Yeah. I know, I'm the pastor. Hey, that's not fair, God! You know I've gotta go anyway! I ... I don't have any bargaining chips.
(both eyes open into squints. head falls to the left. drool runs onto pillow case.)
Okay. I can to this. I've been doing it for 5 decades. I can do it again.
(Mammoth amount of energy expenditure results in a half sitting/half laying position, propped up on elbows. Another blast of will power and the upper half of me is vertical. Dizzy but vertical. A third shot sends my feet over the edge of the bed onto the carpet below.)
You hate me, don't you, God.
("My mercies are new every morning.")
What? Where? Could it be that the entire bible is inspired except for that sentence?
("Seek Me while I may be found.")
You aren't kidding, are you? You want me to ...
(My eyes close. I stare at the earth from my tethered perch. I dangle from the last space shuttle flight. All of the work is finished. I am the last man to walk in space from the shuttle. The beauty is astonishing. I feel a tug from behind me. Mom? What is she doing here? She stands in the cargo bay in her bath robe, reeling me in, pulling me back from my dream view. As I approach the door she hits me with a rolled up newspaper and admonishes me to wipe my shoes before I enter the cockpit where I will guide my high tech bird to its final landing at Kennedy Space Center. Dad sticks his head out of the bathroom and askes if we have any more toilet paper. I tell him that I need to go land our shuttle and ask if he can wait a minute. He gives me "the look" and slams the bathroom door startling me back to ....)
I stand. The bathroom. The bathroom use to be this way. It's probably still here. I enter. Dad is not on the toilet. I must be awake.

Noooooooooooooo.....