Remarkably, My Husband Laughed in His Sleep
It didn’t happen every night. But it was not uncommon for me to be rousted from my slumber at the sound of my husband chuckling outloud while still fully asleep.
He snored too, but I was accustomed to those rumblings over our 42 years together.
His sleep laughter, however, was a more rare and blessed happening.
The first time — it took a moment in my half-dream state to locate the source.
Did I dream the laughter?
Is there someone in our bedroom?
Is the TV on downstairs?
Then my husband laughed again. Not a gut-buster, but a pretty hearty chuckle.
I watched and waited — my eyes becoming accustomed to our darkened bedroom. Was he alert and just teasing me?
No. He was in full dream mode — obviously visions filled with happy thoughts.
I watched his digital alarm clock. His remarkable sleep sequence only lasted a few minutes. There were intermittent laughs, short silences and then smiles — again in his sleep— start, rinse and repeat.
What a pleasure to watch the unfiltered, unadulterated happiness in my sleeping husband.
Over the years, there were a few times when he woke himself with laughter. His eyes would open wide to find me already sitting up in bed watching him. That usually ended with us laughing together and at each other.
How could one ever be angered having their sleep disturbed by such joy? Not me. I was thankful.
There were even times when he purposefully woke me to tell me about his amazing visions. He was so eager to share the fantastical images. He was like a young boy who caught a glimpse of Santa putting presents under the tree and wanted to share his discovery.
He was a prolific dreamer.
His dreams were always adventures - like mini-action movies. Sometimes they were in cartoon form, sometimes there was a mix of lifelike beings and fantasy characters.
Visually, he was so creative — not surprising — he was an architect, artist and engineer. His original ideas didn’t turn off — even when he slept.
He always dreamt in color.
There was always sound and many times he’d fly — usually not in a plane — but zooming around like Superman without the cape or a modern jetpack.
Flying dreams are pretty common.
But more remarkably, he could actively re-engage his dreams.
He’d wake up, explain his detailed dreamscapes and fantastical plots and then say:
“I’m going to go back to sleep now to see how it ends.”
He’d rollover and blissfully doze off within 5 minutes.
He credited his quick sleeping skills to the US Navy. While at sea — he’d serve watches of four hours on and four hours off. So, by necessity, he had to learn to fall asleep quickly.
But what amazes me the most — when I think about it — is that laughing in his sleep showed his true spirit.
His joy was so bountiful that it spilled over — it could not be contained to only waking hours.
And he always woke up with a smile.
Three years a widow — and I still miss waking in the middle of the night to his sleep laughter or hearing about his vivid dreams. I even miss his snoring.
