Floored

Okay, so a couple weeks ago Pulcheria put Bree to sleep (i.e. into Bree’s actual bed, not euthanized) and was enjoying the somniferous lethargy that immediately precedes soporific catalepsy, when she was startled back to semi-consciousness by a small voice saying, “mommy.” It wasn’t a shout. It wasn’t a cry. It was just a soft call that quickly went silent.

After giving the little voice enough time to disappear into its own dreams, Pulcheria quietly crept out of bed to go check on Bree. It just so happens that the easiest path to Bree’s room is through the bathroom. What she found there elicited great sympathy, love and a little bit of humor. Turns out Bree simply wanted to be close to her mommy.