In Your Atmosphere
My daughter crawled into bed in the early morning hours. I felt her body nestle into my own. Despite being half-asleep she leaned in to kiss my forehead and gently stroke my arm. With our eyes closed, I kissed her cheek back, and squeezed her small foot as we drifted, together, back into a sweet and deep slumber. A short while later I saw my daughter curled on the floor. She had fallen to the floor and, too sleepy to return to the warm comfort of my arms, fell back to sleep in the fetal position with a blanket haphazardly wrapped around her My mind immediately drifted to the memory of sleeping on the floor. For many years I slept on the floor of my parent's bedroom, adjacent to my mom's side of the bed. It is the side that always had a small nightstand or table that was home to her alarm clock, always set 20 minutes (at least) ahead. My mom would wake in the middle of the night to go to work 5 nights a week. I always did my best to not miss seeing her a