I talked before about Hillary, myself and places in our homes.
Our 'side of the bed' was one of those things.
It never required any debate or argument. It was clear in almost every home, hotel, tent or bed and breakfast which side would be Hillary's. It wasn't always the left or right or anything, but we knew.
At Carina Place Hillary's side of the bed was the side away from the windows. If she was out of town, or later during the cancer, in the hospital for a stay, I would never sleep on that side. It was hers and waiting for her.
A day or two after Hillary went into the hospital for what would be the last time, I was faced with the distinct possibility that
- Hillary might not come home.
- If she did come home, we might have a hospital bed for her.
- That hospital bed would not be in our bedroom.
Things might not be as dire as I was fearing, but I had to face the possibility that we had already had our last night together at home.
By this point, both of Hillary's parents were in town and one or the other were at the hospital around the clock. I elected to not spend nights there as I knew how badly my sleep would be compromised. I also chose to be present when the kids might need me as much as possible.
It was the second or third night that Hillary was in the hospital and I had visited in the evening. I came home tired, scared, and alone.
I looked at my side of the bed.
I looked at her side of the bed.
I lay down on my side and looked at Hillary's empty side of the bed.
I moved over.
I haven't slept on my side of the bed since then. Sleeping on what was Hillary's side, I can at least pretend for a second that I don't have an empty spot and sometimes that helps me fall asleep.