I woke up with the realization that I’m turning into my dad. It was four am and the TV and lights were still on. I reached over and clicked off the light and hit the remote turning off the TV, plunging me onto darkness with only my thought to light the night.
Dad always slept with the TV tuned to the Turner Channel as we called it in those days, I think that it’s TBS now. If you turned it off he would always wake and say “hey i was watching that” so we learned to leave it on.
Now, like tonight, I find myself falling to sleep with it and the lights on.
Sitting here in the quiet dark, I ponder why I do it, why he did it?
I think that I finally understand.
Sleeping with the light on is not a fear of the dark, but instead an unwillingness to go quietly into the night. Denial of the inevitable endings. That death awaits. The TV, deaths Herald, the lamp provides light that just keeps it at bay, one more night.
©The Autobiography of Mr. Perfect, 2011, written entirely on my iPhone.