Wednesday, July 11, 2018


I lay in the dark sifting through a thousand thoughts left over from the day, sorting them into the proper cubby in my mind.  I’m restless and realize I can’t remember if the back door got locked before we came up to bed.
My husband is snoring lightly beside me sleeping soundly.  I say his name three times before he responds.  I ask about the door, and he replies the same way he does each time this scene plays out, “Yes, it’s locked.”
He stirs, is still a moment and then wordlessly crawls out of bed.  In the dark he half sleepwalks down the stairs returning a moment later to report his findings.  Some nights we’ve left it open; tonight it really was locked.  Either way I sleep easier knowing for certain.  He understands this.  It is why he goes wordlessly into the dark.
Checking the backdoor at night is only one of the ways that my husband makes sure I feel the security of his love.  Through his fidelity, commitment, responsibility, honesty and care he makes each of my days secure.
It only takes a minute or so for his breathing to shift back into the slow heavy rhythm of sleep.  I reach out in the darkness and stroke his cheek issuing a silent prayer of thanksgiving before joining him in peaceful slumber.

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Penny for your thoughts.