After midnight one night a few years ago I was awakened by my husband talking to someone. Thinking someone was here I went to investigate. I walked into the living room to see a precious sight.
On the couch he sleeps on most nights for his back was our youngest, propped up with pillows like a princess, snuggled in his comforter, sipping from a glass, remote in hand. My husband was moving the dog pillows to the floor beside the couch so they could be near their sissy, and he filled me in. Our youngest had woken up feeling bad, tummy hurting in the middle and it got worse when she laid down. He gave her some medicine for indigestion and propped her up in his "bed" so she could rest and try to feel better.
The aforementioned couch and doggy pillow.
This isn't exactly how it happened but it's close.
My husband had it all handled well and so I went back to bed. When I awoke the next morning and began to get ready for work I saw our youngest was still on the big couch. My husband was contorted on the loveseat with a small quilt only, bad back, fibro, and all. He looked so incredibly uncomfortable. I just stood and stared for a moment, wanting to remember how warm and fuzzy I felt seeing him care for her. You see, we have had a rough few years, but we all still have each other. And that is enough.
What gives you warm fuzzy feelings?
Be well, y'all.