In the Morning

Staying up all night is highly dependent upon its context. When you are a kid, it's a challenge, something you try to do when you are at a birthday slumber party (I never made it past 6 AM). When you are in school, it is a necessity (especially as a procrastinator), something you have to do in order to pass the class (I've started so many papers at 11PM). When you are a gamer (this could apply to both childhood or college) it is a nonissue, something that happens unintentionally . . .you just really got into that game and forgot all about time until you looked at your watch and it said 5:45 AM (I've done this, too [Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic II]). You probably weren't going to class the next day anyways.

Staying up all night, in a way, is a defiance of the daily grind. No, I will not go to bed so I can be up at 6 AM and jog-- No I will not go to bed so I can be bright and alert in class tomorrow. It is subconsciously acknowledging the fact that you will loathe this decision in the morning when you must face another day, and this one without any recuperation. You thought the day before was tough . . . just wait 'til 2 PM and you have to be responsible at work (teach elementary school kids, sell lawnmowers, count deposits, etc.) and everything just goes fuzzy. No matter how hard you try to focus your eyes you can't see less than two of everything. Hey, at least you're night driving. You aren't driving, are you? Better squint harder. No? Good, phew, that was close. But you do it anyway, you stay up well aware of what awaits you.

All of this doesn't even mention what effect alcohol has on the whole situation. Throw that stuff in the mix and your asking for trouble (or so I've seen).

When that sun comes up, you can't help but stare at it. In any other case, you'd probably reflect on how beautiful it is. But you've stayed up all night, and that bright sun is like "God's flashlight" (thanks for the phrase, Larry Miller).

When you're printing up your paper you think to yourself, "Self--"that's what you call yourself- "self you should have written this paper earlier."

When you're saving your game and turning off the XBox, you reflect, "Self, you should have paid attention to the time and turned off the game earlier."

When you're at your best friend's birthday slumber party, you say to yourself, "ZzzzzZZzzZZZZZzzzz" (You didn't quite make it. Maybe next time, kiddo.)

There are, of course, times when we stay up out of necessity (as much as it seems like it, pulling an all-nighter writing a paper is not necessary [I'm looking at you, Bratch O.O ]). We stay up all night because of a number of a situation that we would not have volunteered to go through.

I remember one of these nights quite well. The day after Christmas my sixth-grade year found me watching TV with my family (Dave's World!). I didn't even notice when the phone rang.

My brother had spent the night with us and had left early that morning. I received a computer game the morning before and was steadfastly pouring myself into it. I heard him get up, iron his shirt, and walk out the door.

I didn't even say goodbye.

Brandon was killed that night driving home. I'll spare the details, but we got the phone call and that started the longest night of my life. I don't really remember much about it, but I remember swirls of images blending together. I remember my parent and I crying for hours. I remember nearby family coming by in the middle of the night. I remember the pastor from our grandparents house coming over. I remember overhearing funeral preparation decisions.

I remember wondering if that night would ever end.

I sometimes have trouble sleeping. Ask someone who has insomnia-- the night can be so long. You are sure that dawn will be soon and check the clock. 1:13. After a while you sit up and start thinking absurd thoughts.

Maybe dawn won't come.

Maybe this one time dawn forgot. I mean, it should have been here already. What time is it? 2:37 ?!?

Sitting there in the dark can be so oppressive. The utter, imposing silence becomes a deafening roar. The wave upon wave of oily blackness covers your nose and mouth, suffocating you.

It's enough to make you weep.

Unbeknownst to the kid, college student, and gamer, seeing the first precious rays of sunlight is a thing of comfort. So many hours of cold, oppressive night have be forded. Hours bracketed in sobbing and red noses. A rush of warmth blows past you as the outermost edge of that beautiful orb crests the horizon. Every strand of inky despair flees as a vibrant splay of color splash into existence. Every moment held in quiet desperation dissipates as the warm wash floods your senses.

The night did not last forever, the world did not end, and there is a common thread of love that runs between our hearts. The night is vanquished along with our sorrow. We find ourselves cradled in a sea of beauty, a sea of loved ones that persevered along our side and a ever-growing sky full of the whole spectrum of life. Every color, every ray seems as a gift from on high, the perfect gift for just the right moment when all seems lost and thoughts of giving in weigh heavier and heavier. But, just then, that first beam of light pierces the darkness and invades your soul.

And then you start laughing, because everything's going to be okay.

"Weeping may last for the night, but a shout of joy comes in the morning." David, King of the Israelites