Sleep is a horrid creature...

Yea, I'm an insomniac... It wasn't too bad these past few months seeing how I had to take two benedryl to keep my mystery hives at bay. But now it seems that I do not need the benedryl, which is great! Yay, the hives have finally gone away! Except now I can't sleep... I just lay here while random thoughts run through my head. Like it never occurred to me the true meaning of "life goes on" until recently. My Nana passed away two months ago. I remember when she died, we(my family and I) were all fortunate enough to be there with her(fortunate seems like a shitty choice of word, but...). We all stood there holding her hands, stroking her hair, the usual things that one does when watching a loved one die. But the exact moment she died it was like time froze. The world stopped spinning and I was at once transported to an enormous movie theatre where I sat by myself and watched every moment that my grandmother and I ever had together. Sitting in her kitchen topless making Christmas ornaments out of salt dough as a small child. A trip to Canada to visit relatives. Numerous shopping trips over the years. We loved to shop together for anything and everything. Clothes at the Meadow Glenn Mall; these trips always included orange smoothies at Orange Julius(I now have a recipe for these smoothies, but I haven't been able to make one since she died). Yarn at AC Moore, Michaels, or the infamous "yarn store" (bring a snack, we always got lost). Large purchases such as a computer from Sears(she never did let me pay her back for that one) and my son's bedroom set. When ever I needed a shopping buddy, she was there. Needless to say, shopping kinda sucks now. Various introductions flashed on the screen as well; my son, her first great grandchild(named for my grandfather/her husband), my husband(ok so he wasn't my husband then, but I'll never forget the day we told her we intended to marry, she was ecstatic!), and my daughter, her name sake(how she cried when we told her we intended to name our unborn little girl for her). Also included in my movie were clips of my visits to her work, first her office at the car dealership she worked at when I was little(Arrow Pontiac if I remember correctly), then Foodmaster's Office first on Beacon Street and then after they moved the office over to Chelsea. And of course there were the special occasions. I spent virtually every holiday with my grandparents(minus a handful of them here and there). Christmases, Thanksgivings, Easters, Fourth of Julys, Birthdays, and my own wedding(the day before my wedding she discovered that I never got around to making the ring bearers pillow for my son to carry, so she ran out and purchased one that actually matched everything I already had(including my dress!) perfectly, Nana was good like that); it was almost endless. But yet it was over too quickly and before I knew it I was back at that hospital room, staring at my now lifeless grandmother, surrounded by family members that just could not help me no matter how hard they tried(I don't think I wanted to be helped, it was and still is a very personal thing and I don't share well). I wasn't sure if my life would ever move past that moment. But it did. I'm not sure how exactly. Just kinda creeps along. Don't misunderstand, I haven't been miserably depressed(damn that just sounds awful) or anything, there have been quite a few bright spots as of late(for instance, I have a baby girl and first grader son, always some new and exciting milestone happening there). Plus there is the usual life stuff that keeps me busy(the love of my life hubby and our two little darlings, work and all that entails being a preschool teacher, my crafting addiction/hobby, the never ending project of my house, and the happenings of my extended family). And the not so usual dealings that life has tossed my way(I'm not entirely sure why but I was unintentionally compelled to quit smoking two months ago, and as if losing my Nana to cancer wasn't enough, my Grampa is currently fighting it as well). So, as you can see, I hardly have time to dwell on things. But at night, as I lay in bed with nothing but the dark ceiling to stare at, thought creep in... Sometimes I just snuggle closely into my husbands arms and listen to him tick(yep not quite thirty and he's already got an artificial heart valve, he literally ticks, really kinda cool) until I finally find sleep, and then there are the nights where my thoughts torture me until tears silently roll down my cheeks and into my pillow. Trying to sleep on a wet pillow really blows...