As January 8th approaches,
Noah has gotten into the back into the habit of climbing into bed with me in the mornings.
He usually appears with blankie in-tow;
snuggles beneath the warm covers,
and rests his head on the "little" pillow.
It's probably my favorite time of the day.
He is warm from sleep,
Like freshly baked bread, straight out of the oven.
I recall missing our mornings together, not so long ago.
Preparing for both surgeries, we warned Noah and the older two boys that Mommy wouldn't be able to lift or hug too tightly.
Now as I prepare for chemo,
I've warned the boys that not only will I be tired and possibly sick,
but one day soon, I will probably be bald,
"You know, like Daddy," I explained.
So each morning when Noah cozies up next to me in bed,
the first thing he asks to see is my hair.
This morning he remarked that my hair was beautiful.
A flirt at a young age, I see. I remember mornings like that after my mom's many surgeries! I still call her bed "the healing bed". All bad things go away in that bed. I feel close to her there. More power to Noah, he knows how to calm himself. Have you cut your hair yet? I want to see a pic once you do. I sent you one of my growing hair.
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