Love is a daughter who asks what you need every half hour and brings you cold ginger ale with a smile. Love is a mother-in-law who drives way out of her way to take the Little Boys to their first day of swimming class and doesn't blink when she shows up just as you're aggressively vomiting in the kitchen sink. Love is a husband who comes homes from work early so you can go hide in your room, handles a call to a repairman that you were supposed to take care of, and checks in every hour to see if you need anything else (and then brings you ice chips when you ask). Love is little boys who quietly come into your room to say good night and it's one of them very sincerely telling you that he hopes you feel better tomorrow.
I hate being sick. I really hate throwing up. But I'm thankful for these reminders that quite frankly, I desperately needed.
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