A quiet weekend...

We had a quiet weekend. After R & R came up to put in my new heaters, (which we LOVE), they took the girls back up with them so I could have the evening to myself and have the morning to get my orders out before heading north. When I got up to see him, he was getting ready to have a shower so I shaved him and trimmed up the goatee so he would feel really fresh when he came back. He usually loves having his shower, and came back to rest in a very peaceful sleep. I left him sleeping to head to C&L's for dinner. MAC had decided to have all of the kids over there for a sleepover party, and give us parental types another child free night and chance to sleep in. The kids had a great time, playing together, and generally torturing MAC. I got up in the morning and headed to the hospital to spend the day with him. He was awake and looking around I talked to him about the girls, the week, school, Halloween and all the other little details of life. We got him up in his chair, and decided to have a quiet afternoon. I pulled his chair around, put my chair up next to his and pulled the TV down in front of us. I turned the lights off and searched for a movie. I found Lethal Weapon, on of his all time favorites, and put it on. I held his hand and put my head on his shoulder, we spent the next two hours as we have spent so many before them. Sitting together in a darkened theater, watching a movie. Going to the movies is another of his favorite things. He would go over and over to see the same movie, yet could quote lines word for word after the first viewing. So we sat there just as we had in those days past. Me curled around his arm, with my head on his shoulder, no words needed as we quietly watch the movie. I can close my eyes and breathe in the scent of him. In those moments we just are. There are no expectations, no words missing from the conversation, no gray hospital walls. There is no uncomfortable silence, there is just us. In that moment we just are. He is giving everything he can to me. His warmth, his strength, his presence. I am soaking it in, drawing it in, and allowing the calm to wash over me. I am comforted by it, I allow myself to relax. To be quiet. We will turn on the lights and leave the "theater" later. First we will enjoy the "normal" we can have. We will mourn again later for the things we have lost, the things we are missing, but for now we will quietly enjoy the moment. We will be still. When I close my eyes and feel the warmth of his shoulder under my cheek, the contstant rythym of his breathing, I can breathe.