It is not the moments when you have choices about what medicine to give to take away or relieve the pain.
It is not the moments when you can look into piercing eyes that tell a story of struggle and pain, but show so much love that it almost causes your heart to burst………
It is the quiet moments… the moments when the house is so quiet that the noise in your head sounds like a train bearing down on you..
It’s the moments when you are walking towards the doorway with a lump in your throat, a knot in your stomach and holding your breath.
The moments when you walk through that doorway, and you stop….. stare…. listen.
The moments when you find that gap between the noises in your head to pick up the slightest sound. The moments when you are looking for the slightest movement.. is there a rise and fall?
It’s the moments when you hope the colour of the skin you see is because of the darkness of the room or the pale light shining through the window.
It is the moments when fear has you gripped so tight, you don’t know if you can move. The fear that you will find what you do not want to find… but knowing if you found it, in some ways it would be a release and a relief.
The moment when you realise…. he’s still here.
These are the moments, sometimes several times a night, and every morning of waking and walking through the door to check on Samuel that are simultaneously filled with quiet…noise…. and fear.