Pen in hand, I sink into the over sized sofa, pausing to take a deep, healing breath. The dog lets out a guttural groan...almost in acknowledgement of my own resignation. The night has been long and morning comes faster than I care to concede.
Brooklyn is sleeping soundly in my bed. Night time stirs discontent and she has whimpered long enough in her own bed. I tried to comfort her there, but there is a vast difference between the distant isle of her bed and the comfort of the mainland. I pick her up and carry her to my bed. She sleeps deeply now. Her breathing has steadied. She no longer grasps at her own hair, as if trying to regain balance. Her final utterance was a sweet sigh and I am content...until Lauren cries out.
Her disorientation becomes mine. I rush to her side and she need only feel my breath against her neck to relax. A single, tiny finger reaches out and touches my cheek. She smiles, never opening her eyes. Satisfied that I am near, she turns over and settles back in...for now.