I woke up tonight as I do so many nights. Tonight I wasn't soaked in sweat and not yet in tears.
I turned over in bed and reached out for the strong arms that I grab for so often, but not for strength as I usually do. Instead, I grabbed for the softness of his skin. I felt the inside of his arms. The part where his skin is still baby soft, not aged from working outside or rough with callouses from sanding the walls of the downstairs bedroom because the stairs are sometimes hard for me to tackle. He knows eventually our bedroom will need to be on the first floor.
Inside my head, I fight the words I jokingly shared with a couple of my friends this weekend. What about Ron? Find him someone, I pleaded with them. But, well she will have to be funny and awesome and fun and demanding and family oriented....
And I can't stop the tears from falling. No matter how hard this fight is for me, I know it's harder on the caretakers. I've been a caretaker and watching the fight is brutal pain that can't be decribed in words.
I know the ones left to cope aren't quite sure how to wake up each day. I know he struggles to sleep and often I catch him watching me as I drift off to dream. I'm not sure if he knows I dream for him to be alright.
Or just how much I love him.
***Do not tell him about this post. He hates when I write about him!
I turned over in bed and reached out for the strong arms that I grab for so often, but not for strength as I usually do. Instead, I grabbed for the softness of his skin. I felt the inside of his arms. The part where his skin is still baby soft, not aged from working outside or rough with callouses from sanding the walls of the downstairs bedroom because the stairs are sometimes hard for me to tackle. He knows eventually our bedroom will need to be on the first floor.
Inside my head, I fight the words I jokingly shared with a couple of my friends this weekend. What about Ron? Find him someone, I pleaded with them. But, well she will have to be funny and awesome and fun and demanding and family oriented....
And I can't stop the tears from falling. No matter how hard this fight is for me, I know it's harder on the caretakers. I've been a caretaker and watching the fight is brutal pain that can't be decribed in words.
I know the ones left to cope aren't quite sure how to wake up each day. I know he struggles to sleep and often I catch him watching me as I drift off to dream. I'm not sure if he knows I dream for him to be alright.
Or just how much I love him.
Praying for you, dear, sweet friend.
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