I hear him breathe. I wonder if it is normal breathing. I lay next to him wondering if I am doing enough…wondering if I’m not missing something obvious and important.

Was that grumble to hoarse? Should I be checking him for fever? Are we over/underfeeding him? is that a bister, a rash, allergy? Will I always be strong when she needs me?

I find myself impatiently waiting for the time where I’m searching for the answers to everyone of his questions. But now… I just hope I make it day to day being there when and as needed for them.

As I lay down… I see myself wantimg to be 6 again. I lay in my fiberglass, racing car bed. I see my room growing up…my desk, my windows…

But the safety of that time is gone… I am a little boy grown up…

I hope I am doing this right.

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