Holding Hands

I was hot and uncomfortable, when the alarm started beeping.  I haven’t used an alarm in 2 plus years, since before my son was born, I just wake up, but my husband, now that is a different story.  He gets up well before me and hates mornings.  He is the textbook “snoozer.”  He was so bad a one point that the alarm clock has to be so far away that he has to get out of bed to get to it.  Still, he pushes it several times before getting up for the day.

Normally, when he comes back after the first snooze, I move over and snuggle with him, but on this day I wanted nothing to do with snuggling.  My back hurt and I had just tossed and turned and as the alarm beeped, I finally got comfortable on my back.  In the dark, I found his hand, interlocked our fingers and went back to sleep.

In those sleepy moments, I felt warm, secure, peaceful and happy.  How is it that something we do often could feel so special?  Is it the fact that it was done in secret?  That it was outside our normal routine?  I suppose it doesn’t matter, what matters is I felt it and want to remember it and…at the end of the day, as we were getting ready for bed, he said, “I really liked it when you held my hand this morning.”  Guess he felt it too.

 

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