Just a little longer now

These days I sleep upstairs in my nephews bed.  Its not by choice, the simplest movement wakes her up and gives her pain.  I get up to get a glass a water and I hear her crying in pain.  I am helpless, She cant turn to kiss me, and me simply placing my hand on her arm can send pain shooting through her body.  So I lay on the floor, next to my nephew who wants to stay close to her in case she needs help.  She begs me to go upstairs as I have work in the morning.  Sometimes I lie, telling her its 2:00 when its actually 4:00am or that I am really sleeping.  I think of people in the bible who went through so much more than us, or think of friends or acquaintances who deal with more to try to get perspective.  As the muscles spasm in my legs I quietly hum songs to myself, think of those who have helped dealing with thoughts of frustration and anxiety for not knowing what the next day will bring or think of funny things the kids have done recently.  But fun lately seems more like chores and they are kids who want to run jump and play.  I feel guilty, but I know it will get better, it must get better.  She's finally drifted off to some form of sleep and I pop and crack my way upstairs and fall into bed.  It seems its time to get up now as my five-year old son greets me with a sleepy hug and says, "Mommy is OK daddy, I will take care of her.  I distribute medicine, give my nieces instructions for the morning and go downstairs to gently as I can hold my wife's hand.  I am no hero, I am a husband and a father trying to deal with this.  I know I cant go it alone.  Her surgery is soon, and with it the hope this pain will be gone and we can go back to our lives.  I started to walk out the door this morning and as I make it to the car my oldest daughter comes out and hands me a granola bar.  What's this for? I ask.  Daddy mommy is hurt so I have to take care of you.  The littlest things can make the greatest impact.  So for those who pray, thank you, for those who listen thank you for those who cook thank you.  To my children, your love is amazing.  Just a little bit longer now.