“Mummy loves you”… or “Your mummy loves you”.
Every night for getting on for two thousand nights, I whispered these words into my sleeping son’s ear.
A deep sleeper, he would occasionally grunt, or throw out his arm, but mostly he would lie there, his breath even and regular. No sign that he was aware that I was there, crouching in the dark by his side, my inward breath aligning with his inward breath, loving him.
Whispering in the night.