I thought the movement in the shadows meant I was about to lose something else.
Instead, it was the universe shoving a small, scruffy reminder through a forgotten door:
Now, our routine is simple.
I work from the couch.
Edduin sleeps in his room.
Casper sleeps on the rug by the crib, one ear always slightly lifted.
Sometimes I still pull up the monitor before bed.
Just to look.
There they are on the screen: my son sprawled sideways, chubby leg hanging through the bars, and Casper curled up close, tail thumping once in his sleep.
Every time, I remember the night I saw that first shadow and my heart tried to escape my body.
I thought I was seeing the worst.
Continue reading…
