Nov 22, 2010

Now Is All We Have

Now Is All We Have


Picture: http://pravstalk.com/

It was night. I was having one of my sleepless nights. I felt too tired to do work but too awake to sleep. So I just lay in bed with my eyes wide open staring at the white ceiling which seemed to be dark navy in the middle of the night. I was thinking of visiting him, going to his room, talking to him. If I went to see him no one would find out. Now was a time when I needed to talk to him. He always understood me. I felt safe next to him, secure.

After five more minutes of a failed attempt of falling asleep, I crept out of my bed. I tied a robe around my rank top and shorts and I did not bother putting on slippers. The less noise I made the better. I opened the door slowly and ran as quietly as I could across the hallway into his room.

The light in his room was off. I took my robe off and put it on the floor beside me; I slid myself into his bed and took his hand in mine. I looked at him with adoration. The lines of his face were soft just as his character was. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I saw that his eyes were open. He was looking at me. He smiled. We understood each other so well. I could not sleep, neither could he. Although the reasons that kept us awake were different, the fact that we were the only two who were awake brought us together.

We spoke. I told him about my day, he told me about his. We shared details and emotions we knew so much about and yet they felt fresh and new being discussed in bed under the darkness of night. We laughed, we cried. When I cried, he would wipe my tears away. We spent hours like that.

I felt tired. I told him I was going to go back to bed. I had a lovely night. I told him, possibly the best one in my life. He smiled at me with the kindest smile known to mankind and said. Oh darling, I will never forget this night. I held his hand tighter. I kissed him on the forehead and ran out of his room.

When I got into my bed I broke down in sobs. He told me that every night. Every night he told me that he would never forget. But he always did. Because he had Alzheimer's.