Sleep of the Just

Reflections in the middle of the night

Morpheus, the God of Sleep

As some of you know, I am slated to become a grandfather in 2025. To mark the occasion, I have begun writing letters to my prospective granddaughter, which I hope will ultimately become part of a larger project that tries to capture what it’s like to be alive in the first quarter of the twenty-first century. I hope it will be of some value to you now and her later. —Jim

January 13, 2025

Dear Baby,

The odds are you’re asleep right now. From what I understand people your age slumber 12-14 hours a day. Since you’re in utero, you make no distinction between day and night. Even after you’re born it will be months before you sleep through the night (I reckon no milestone will be more cherished by your parents). In that regard you’re a little like your grandparents—certainly this grandparent. Sleeping through the night is not something that happens very often.

In the last couple of years I seem to have fallen into what I call a doughnut pattern. I typically wake up circa 2 a.m. and will spend anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours awake. Sometimes I’ll just lay there and hope for Morpheus (as your great-grandfather Ted referred to the God of Sleep) will return. Other times I’ll get up and try to do something I like to think of as productive. Like grade papers. Or write a letter to my granddaughter.

You, sweetheart, will enjoy the sleep of the just. There will be no anxieties about what might happen. No regrets about what you’ve done. I would envy you if I didn’t take so much satisfaction from the prospect. Alas, by the time you comprehend these words, the sleep of the just will likely be eroding. Not all at once, I trust. Actually, I hope it will last you for decades. May it never escape you entirely.

But if and when it does, you will be in good company. I hope you will find a way to count your blessings like sheep. If you can concentrate on them, there will always be more than you expected. Right now you’re one of mine.