She lies next to me in bed. Sound asleep. I’m on “night duty.”
I have spent hundreds of hours just gazing at her while she sleeps, holding her hand, caressing her face, kissing her. I love the way that she grasps my hand even when she is asleep.
She is having some mild seizure activity right now. Her hands are twitching and her head slightly goes back and forth. When I see it start, I grab her hand and just hold it. Maybe it is my imagination, but it seems like the twitching slows down. It eventually stops for awhile, and she sleeps even deeper.
I love the feel of her skin, the curl of her hair, the softness of her breath as she sleeps. I run my fingers all over her face and arms every so lightly. I cherish these moments because it gives me time to just soak everything about her up and burn it into my memory.
I just want to continue to soak up her being. She is still alive, still here, still fighting. She has captured my soul.
She is my hero, my sweet hero. She is my heart, my love.