I woke up this morning to the rustling of the sheets. It was still dark out; there was no hint of light in the sky. I felt a movement in the room, and as I tried to focus my eyes, I saw Alphonse, sitting in the darkness, making happy, little noises. He didn’t even notice me wake up.
I was expecting him to run to the light switches and open all of them in one go, or even attempt to open the bedroom door which we lock at night to keep him from wandering, but no, this time, he stayed put at the foot of our bed. And then just as suddenly, he clambered over the bed, sidled up to me, and started giving me wet, sloppy kisses, all the while still making his happy, little noises.
As his lips brushed my cheeks, he suddenly whispered, “Ayayu (I love you).” He has not spoken these words in a while so I was surprised. “I love you too, baby,” I whispered back, as tears fell down my cheeks. He gave me one last kiss and then moved to the other side of the bed, where he did the same to his dad.
Later, snuggled between his dad and me, he smiled and went back to sleep.
This is what we call Thanksgiving.