....is the sound of her voice.
I was drying off from my bath last night when I heard the phone ring. Checked the caller id.
"Hello, love bug!" I said.
"What's up, how's stuff going?" I asked, already feeling cautious. She sounded quiet, reflective.
"I just...I just...needed to hear your voice," she finally said.
We talked then, about the funeral, the lay of the land, how she was feeling, how we would see each other on Monday. She sounded sleepier and sleepier, finally there was no more talking and I heard her slow, steady breaths.
I stayed with her, laying back on my bed, listening to my child breathe.
Finally, when I was almost in a stupor, leaning towards sleep, I heard Tinton's voice.
I sat up slowly. "Yes, I'm here."
He chuckled into the phone.
"She fell asleep holding the phone," he said.
We talked quietly. He said that she was holding up well, being such a help to her grandmother, her aunts, and especially him.
"But, I think she's ready to come home," he said. "She misses you so much."
I nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see me. But, my voice was stuck in the muck of my throat. Finally, I managed to croak out that I missed her too, would see them both on Monday.
I told him to tell her to call me anytime, day or night for any reason. He agreed.
As I hung up the phone, I looked over at Socks, the dog.
"Sometimes just the sound of her voice is all it takes to make everything in me just stop and stare," I said.
He nodded in his Ernest Borgnine way and placed on paw on my bare leg. I stroked his head.
He knows. He loves her too.