I lay here and I hear your voice. I want to say, “I’m cold, I’m thirsty, I’m hungry.” but I can’t. But, as I hear you, I feel you wanting to reach out, grab me up and make me smile or hold me. I feel you. I do, I really do. I am grateful to see you and have you hold my hand and lead my soul into a new world God holds for me. You always make me feel like I am not alone, even if I am. I put my life in your hands and I believe you in all you say. I laugh with you as you tell me your stories. I know that I relate to half these stories you tell so well. I just want to sit up, see you and look in your eyes. I know that in those eyes I would feel safe and loved and this alone is my sanctuary. I realize you are busy and you hustle with everyone. I appreciate the fact that if I hear you in the hallway I can rest assured you will be in to tell me, “Good morning!” and get my fan or a wet rag to place on my head. Because of you I rest at ease knowing you will see me, not just my disease that is killing me. You will help me pass on as a beautiful woman with my hair combed, my nails painted and my candy apple lotion on my hands and arms. Thank you! Thank you for caring enough to speak to me even though I can’t speak back.