Always Here.

Here we are. Back again.

We’ve been here before, my body knows the routine.

I hear the sound and I pop out of bed. That exhaustion I felt earlier when I literally could do no work and had to sleep at 9 pm?

Gone.

I race up the stairs.

I had literally said, “I only come up if you really need me,” at bedtime. And of course this was one of those situations. His eyes had closed at bedtime with little faith that I would come when needed (his definition of “need me” was all night long because of nighttime fears. Mine was more the blood, vomit, hurt kind.)

He looked expectantly out the bedroom door as he struggled to catch his breath.

I walked in, faith restored.

“I’m always here when you need me, bud,” I reassured him as we fell back into our middle of the night ritual.