I’ve been lying awake in bed tonight, unable to sleep.  I’m not sure why.

If I must have a night of difficulty catching z’s, then oh, what I wouldn’t give for this sleepless night to be because Judson is in the room next door, needing me.  I’ve tossed and turned in these wee hours, remembering the many nights I would hear Jud cry out in pain or needing to change positions.  I would go into his room and after readjusting his body, I often laid down with him, “spooning” his warm, yet deteriorating frame.

Though I savored those moments, I also remember being so taxed that I was desperate for relief from my circumstances.  It is inexplicably awful that this desired relief came from death, robbing me of the only redeeming part of those sleepless nights, the little boy behind the pain.