Essay

Arm asleep, drool on shoulder. Snotty, congested breaths, chests rise and fall. Various limbs nestled tightly with mine, comforted in the closeness. All other beds in the house emptied in the span of a few sleepless hours over a tearful bargain for ours. A haggle often lost by us, I’m sure the record is staggering. Such is the predicament of the midnight hours with our sick children.

It’s been a particularly trying phase for Luke, he is sifting and sorting emotions minute by minute. An internal struggle has arisen in him and the giant of his personal will has begun to stir. Previously simple moments of we will now do this or that, have been exchanged for complicated, passionate discussion of terms. I’ve gone to the end of my wits, and a little beyond, in the past weeks correcting, instructing and allowing “do-overs” for what feels like our entire day.

In the same breath, he has managed to race past a few milestones in his little soul. His understanding of how to follow our words and think for himself is budding. There’s so much marvel in it, really. I’m fascinated with how much he’s grown and grasped. While he shakes his sass at times, I’ve discovered that, despite it all, he would rather drop his argument or his disposition in exchange to be reconciled to us, or close with us. I can’t think of anything more dear.

A heartfelt “I really love you” and especially cuddly hugs keep us helplessly hooked .. even after a night-full of early bedtimes, scrapped chocolate desserts and toy timeouts. Oh Lord!