Things I Don't Want to Forget: Addendum

I heard you whimpering quietly from across the room.  I checked in on you only to find you still asleep, your face flushed red, your brow furrowed in frustration.  I held your hand, my fingers covering most of your forearm - stroked your faced; told you Mommy was there - expecting you to wake.  You quieted immediately, your muscles relaxing, the tension disappearing from your face.  I think of how many times in your life I'll be able to do this for you.  I think of how many times I won't.  And my heart breaks.