For almost 14 years, Mark and I slept together, backs facing each other. We both needed to be on the outside of the bed, and he had a preference for which side he slept on.
Whenever we woke up, I would roll over and reach for his hand… and we’d hold hands until we either needed to roll back to our sides or until we got up.
Last night, as I was falling asleep, I said my usual “Good night, my Love, I miss you” and added to it “please come visit me in my dreams…”
I don’t remember my dreams from last night, but I do remember waking up this morning. In the haze of “not-quite-awake” I reached over to hold his hand. And I held his hand for about 30 seconds before I remembered he wasn’t really there.
It was a REALLY peaceful way to wake up this morning. I suppose it was his way of giving me some measure of peace before I got up to the chaos and screaming and yelling and fighting that my kids were doing.
I loved holding his hand.
I tried to find a picture of us holding hands – I know there’s one from our wedding of just our hands, but I don’t know where it is… so I pulled this one from this blog