Today I am grateful for that last moment every night before I get into bed, when I go into Jackson's room just to look at him, his limbs splayed in all directions in his deep, toddler-exhausted sleep, his wispy hair sometimes sticking straight up. I listen for his breath and watch his ribs move slowly up and down. Every once in a while, I risk it. Every once in a while, I bend over and put my hand on him, on his tummy, or his back, or the top of his head. Just because I can. Just because I can.
That's a risk well worth taking. I'm glad you do.
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