When it was time to take him back to bed, I helped him up and followed behind him. Watching him carefully wobble as he walked cautiously back to his room. He stopped and looked up at me, “Mom will you carry me?” He whispered. I scooped him up and carried him to his bed. As I carried him, I could imagine him as a tiny little baby staring up at me, completely dependent on us for his care, and yet here he is nine years old in need of the same type of care. Pushing my emotions down, I kissed his forehead and went back to bed.