The Last of Your Water Bowl

Today, your mom showed me your bedroom water bowl. It has officially dried up. We last filled it for you on July 20th, right before we started sleeping on the couch because you were in so much pain and needed to be held. We haven’t slept in the bedroom since. It’s not the same without you. I’m afraid to go back to sleeping in our bed in the bedroom. I’m afraid I’ll wake up in the middle of the night, look over to your bed next to mine, and remember that you’re not there. I still remember our routine so clearly. You’d wake me up multiple times throughout the night (unintentionally) because you needed to be tucked back in. Sometimes you’d wake me up when you drank from your water bowl because you were so loud! I never minded. Not even a little bit. Before we had to gate you in to limit your movements, you’d do your little tippy tapes, drink your water, then do your tippy tapes again as you figured out the best way to go back to bed1. You were always an expert at getting yourself under…