Before Bed

When I was a young girl, I had a green rocking chair that sat in my room. It was remnant from my nursery, I think. But when I had outgrown that chair, when I was nine or ten, I had a lot of trouble sleeping. I would imagine that there were people in my room, in the corners, coming to get me and I would panic. Slowly, slowly, panic. For a lot of those years I slept in a nest of quilts on my parents' floor but when I was in my own room, I had a trick I used to calm myself down. I would imagine Mary Chapin Carpenter was sitting in my green rocking chair, with her guitar on her lap, singing me "When Halley Came to Jackson."

Now I'm a (sometimes) grownup and I happen to have a green armchair in my room. As I was lying in bed tonight, ready to sleep, I turned on "It Don't Bring You," which I consider another lullaby. I suddenly remembered all those nights Chapin kept me safe from the monsters in the corners and I set it up to play again. I know there is no one here but me, Alyssa upstairs, and Charlie down the hall. I know I am safe here and I will not panic, not tonight. But a little lullaby and a little safety never hurt anyone.