There is nothing alarming about waking in the middle of the night and sensing another person’s presence in the room. George is too little to just magically appear in my bed, but Mary, and even on rare occasions Peter, will relocate to my room without waking me. Sometime later, I may wake up and feel her there; perhaps I hear her breathing or some slight movement.
Bill was gone half of June, and he’s been gone all of July. Just as finding a little person in my room in the middle of the night is normal, so, too, is not having him there in the bed. I get used to rolling over and finding pillows.
Early this morning, though, I heard the baby crying in his crib. As I roused myself, I felt someone else in the room. Turning in my bed, I saw a body much, much too large to be Mary or even Peter. I had a moment’s panic before I remembered picking my husband up from the airport late last night.
All is well.