By Nicolas V,

That Sumday morning I awoke in the cheap motel and glanced over to a cold and lifeless George. It was hard to say that I was surprised. Grandpap George was well over eighty, and not in perfect health. We were a state away from home. But it was worth the drive, West Virginia’s postcard shows were legendary compared to Pennsylvania’s. Since George has been retired, the one thing he lived for was these postcard shows all over the tristate area.

I was the son-in-law, and I just liked the postcards and company. There is no way I can break this news to the entire family by myself, I barely even know the guy. I called my wife, Karen, and told her she needed to come to West Virginia. She knew something was wrong, she could feel it. She knew about George’s lung cancer. She knew about his sleep apnea. She knew his days were numbered.

“Karen…” I muttered.

“Wha—what happened?” Her voice barely audible, “He was doing so well recently…”

“He went on his terms. The way he wanted to go. He wouldn’t have wanted you to be sad. Celebrate his life, don’t mourn his death.” Were the only words of encouragement I had. I knew how it felt. I’ve lost a newborn child to sleep apnea.

Karen collapsed on the floor next George’s Motel 6 bed for the night. His body still around, but his soul wasn’t home. I threw my arm around my wife to try to calm her down, but she was in hysterics. Nothing prepares you for losing a father, even if you knew it was coming eventually.

The next few days were a blur. I’m still not certain how Karen told everyone so quickly, but before that Sunday was over, every relative, friend and coworker from both sides of the family knew about George’s passing. It successfully tore the family to shreds. Granpap George was a phenomenal guy. He didn’t take anything from anyone, and he loved everyone in his life up until his last moments. The first days are always the hardest. Coping with the death of a loved one is such an odd thing that no one can prepare for. It’s one of the few things that, no matter how many times it happens, you don’t get used to it.

Grandma Ronnie was the center of attention, even though all she wanted was to be alone. She has the wisdom to celebrate the lives of everyone that she meets, instead of mourning the losses. Grandma has outlived almost all of her friends, cousins and siblings. But the loss of a significant other for more than 50 years? Now, that would be devastating. Although she has gone through a lot in her lifetime, this one of the moments that changed her for the rest of her life. Grandma has never been the same, and it’s too late to start over.

For me? Well, I had to tell my children that their favorite grandfather passed, and then be the anchor for the collective breakdown my family had. All of this commotion meant that I could never mourn the loss of a friend. I never got around to paying my dues, and I’d like to think that he prefers it that way.

By Nickelis V,

I have this reoccurring dream. A classroom full of number two’s is being taught by me. I have the day’s lesson planned, but as soon as I walk into the classroom, all prior knowledge evades my conscious mind and I stair vacantly at the class. I am left barren, subjected to the stairs of these young living numbers.  The bell for recess slays my clarity and I awake in my bed next to Cheree.

My girlfriend, as sweet as a flower, snores like a bothered and grumpy bear most nights. I, on the other hand, cease to breathe for 20, maybe 30 seconds every so often when I sleep. Match made in heaven, I know. Recently the daily stresses of being two college student and holding glorious minimum wage jobs has begun to wane our sleep lust, and long hours staring at the walls have become customary. My mother suggested some all natural sleeping pills her homeopathic doctor suggested. On the cover in nicely fonted text you can read the phrase “All Natural Sleeping Aid” which is followed in a slick go cart green font “Dietary Supplement”.

They work great! Only recently did I notice the dietary supplement portion. This made me a little concerned, but I chose the path of least resistance, and blissfully ignored it. I would come home from a stressful 12 hour day of physics and chemistry to my lovely lady and some Netflix. Hours would fade the night into comfort, and soon the sleeping pills would be taken. Cheree and I would drift to sleep and all was right with the world.

In the mornings, both Cheree and I had a habit of talking about our dreams. The dinosaur solar plexus punches and cloud cotton candy crush nonsense awakened the day right up. Recently though, my girlfriend Cheree stopped having dreams. I took no notice initially, but after a few weeks it struck me. She was not sleeping through the night. I was falling asleep faster, and she was suffering intermittent nights of sleep.

Dreams, as some psychoanalytic psychologists believe, are composed of both unfulfilled wishes and reprocessing of that which our conscious minds were unable to fully comprehend.

The sleeping pills had worsened my sleep apnea and the gaps between breathless sleep had worsened. My lovely Cheree noticed, but was so happy to see me returned to hearty sleep she would lay awake at night assuring I would regained my lost breath. I had fallen asleep faster because the snoring had dissipated.

We have a mind within our souls. A heart beyond our chest. I knowing untouchable, but solid as steel. Love had granted me the dreams, and my hearts mind had enlightened me to its architect. The two’s were not numbers. I was telling myself two. Two! There are two of you! You have forgotten there are two of you!

Shortly after we stopped taking the pills. The snoring returned. The sleeplessness returned. This time though, it was together. Now when I dream I find myself in flight over water. Hopefully this means something good.

By Nicholas T,

When I was in second grade, I wrote a story with illustrations about my father’s snoring.  The picture reflected not only Zs but Qs.  My mom and dad asked what the Qs were and I told them that was the extra sound dad made when he snored.  I didn’t realize he had sleep problems, I just knew there were two sounds to my dad’s snoring.

In our house, my mom occasionally slept on the couch when the noise was too loud that she couldn’t sleep.  My dad would often take naps on the couch during the day on weekends, and the snoring was so loud it would make my brother and I giggle.  Camping was always adventurous!  We would tease my dad that the bears would never come to our tent because his snoring would scare them away.

I remember my mom and dad talking about his snoring and about him always being tired.  We would go on a family bike ride but my dad wouldn’t go.  He always said he worked too much and needed a nap not exercise.  He always told my mom it was heredity and that his dad snored the same way.  It was nothing to worry about.  My mom read articles on the web and would share them with my dad.  He still wouldn’t take any action.

When we would visit my grandparents, I noticed they had two bedrooms.  I asked my mom why we had to sleep on the pullout couch when grandpa and grandma got two rooms.  My mom told me it was because grandpa snored so loud that grandma couldn’t sleep.  I remember she said, “that’s going to me and dad in 30 years.”

About 6 years ago, my mom gave my dad an ultimatum: either do something about his snoring, or she would permanently move into the spare room!  My dad did two things: my dad quit drinking alcohol and he started to exercise regularly.  Within 8 months he had lost 30 pounds and didn’t need naps on the weekends.  I also remember him finally joining us on family bike rides and he would plan hikes in the mountains for us.

What I didn’t realize right away was that his snoring had stopped.  We had planned a camping trip to Lake Moomaw and discussed sleeping arrangements.  My brother said that he was sleeping in the truck because of dad’s snoring.  I told him I was older and bigger, so I got to sleep in the truck. My mom quickly calmed us down and referencing my 2^nd grade story said, “Well Daddy doesn’t Z and Q anymore.  Since he lost weight he has stopped.”  Needless to say, all of us slept in the tent and kept an ear out for bears.

My family’s issues and resolution with sleep problems are pretty mild compared to what I have read.  However, I believe it is important to realize the effects that alcohol and being overweight have on snoring and quality of sleep.  My father was able to reverse the effects of his sleep problems by losing weight and cutting out alcohol from his diet.  It has been a blessing for my family and for bears.