sleep. goldfish. and my dad.

when i was a child, i did not like to sleep. i have vivid memories of climbing out of bed, my pillow tucked firmly under my arm, walking barefoot across the long corridoor to the living room, many many times in a single night. as the story goes, one night, when i was about four, having gotten out of bed for about the hundredth time, and having run out of any kind of remotely valid sounding excuses (i'm too hot, i'm thirsty, the room is too dark), i triumphantly announced to my weary-eyed parents that i could not sleep because 'the goldfish is swimming in the bowl'. yes, my big sister's goldfish, who apparently thought he was minding his own business in his own little world, was in fact quite clearly keeping me awake and had to be removed. immediately.

truth be told, there were two reasons why i did not like to sleep. 1. i was convinced that while i was asleep the rest of my family was partying without me, and 2. i was afraid. there were two things i was afraid of. 1. that i would die in my sleep, and 2. hyenas.

yes, hyenas.

you have to understand that growing up in malawi, the howling of hyenas was a common sound at night. i had no idea what a hyena looked like, but my over-active four year old imagination had conjured up a fantastic cross between E.T. and a small rabid dinasaour. fantastic. and utterly terrifying.

enter my dad.

this is one of my favourite photos of him and i. although i am too young to talk, i love that he looks like he is intently listening, with complete and utter seriousness, to every word i am saying. 

and with regards to my fears of 1. dying before morning came, and 2. hyenas somehow getting through my bedroom windows, he did exactly the same to my four year old self: listen. 1. he promised me that i would live until i was at least a hundred years old, and then 2. proceeded to tuck me in bed tightly with the mosquito net as my haven and an entire army of every doll and toy i every owned arrayed around the circumference of my bed as my own personal bodyguards against the hyenas. every single night. and thus my four year old self was able to sleep at night. blissfully.

its been many years since the thought of my mortality has kept me up at night. and i've also learned along the way that hyenas are just rather sad looking dogs who are more afraid of me than i am of them. nonetheless, with my adult self there are always other fears that come and go. and with my adult self, as with my four year old self, my dad is always there to listen, intently and seriously, even if it is to my still rather over-active imagination. and although i am too old for my army of dolls, his love, words, constant encouragement and example of courage have become my shield and a source of my strength. 

of course, i do still believe that i will live until i am a hundred. and will keep him to his word.