insomnia again...

So here I am, again. Wide awake and mind reeling while I should be snoring and dreaming. Dreaming is difficult lately...nightmares.
I am doing a little self-analysis, well okay, a lot.
My son was hospitalized for pnuemonia recently. One of the scariest events in the adventures of single mommy-hood.
For a week at home he was sick without getting better, then for six days I stayed in the hospital with him, THANK GOD. He was so scared, but tried to be brave. He cried, not about the needles or the IV, but because he feared he might die...."that's what happens when people get really sick in the lungs Mama, like Gramma did." Oh! What a knife to the heart, my poor little baby.
The year old loss of my mother still a fresh wound to us both.
He wouldn't believe me when I promised him that wouldn't happen, so I had to get the night nurse and resp. tech to tell him too.
He finally relented, "okay. But I'm still scared."
Well of course you are, that's a perfectly natural response. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better? At that moment I would've given anything to make that little boy smile...
He thought hard for a minute, his brow furrowed, before a look of profound sadness came over his cherubic face. "No...nothing."
"You're wishing your dad could be here too, huh baby?"
and the tears ran, soaking the front of my shirt. At that moment I had never hated my ex-husband more. It had been over two years since he had heard from his father, the supervised visitation schedule ignored.  The anger management and parenting classes never taken. The angry outbursts in the court rooms that my saw, thankfully, didn't see or hear. It had definately made my life a little easier, but it had made my son's so much harder.
The questions that I couldn't answer were frequent the first year.
He went to counseling, learned that it was okay to both miss his father and be angry with him for his absence.
"It's okay Mama," he said glumly, "I know we can't find him." He wiped his eyes and stared in the corner trying to stop more from coming. The emotional wave crashing over him made it even harder for him to breathe. He became more pale than he was already.
"I'll try to find him, okay? I can't make any promises sweetie, but I'll try."

Later I paced the hospital parking lot, crying and praying, and crying some more.