Night Margaret Harmer   My bedside clock shows the time. It is 3:16 a.m. - in another desperate night. I stare into the darkness. Tears roll off the sides of my eyes into my ears - out onto my pillow silently. My husband moves, I know he isn’t asleep. His breathing isn’t regular. He stirs and I know he is remembering. He moves out of the bed into the kitchen, The lights out there snap on, I hear crockery noises As he makes himself tea… And then there is silence. Should I go out to see how he is or stay quietly in my bed - letting him time alone? His days are so full at work, He has no place to be himself but alone at 3:30 in the morning, Oh God, WHEN are we going to be released from this desperate longing and grief for our little boy - our only son? How long does it last? How long does it take? So many months have gone by, And we are not feeling any better - but WORSE! Help me, God - I just can’t handle it alone! He stumbles back into bed, Cold and spent. We lie apart - both wide awake Desperate for rest - relief. He moves and I turn toward him. Suddenly reaching for his hand. He turns to me and holds me closely, No words are needed… We are together. We feel so much for each other. We KNOW! No one else in the world can share my grief with him. Thank you, God, that we still have each other. But I am still alone.