Creation of Family

My son is sick. Nothing serious,
just a virus I had a while back,
but painful. I remember the pain.
I’m still recovering myself, still tired.
We’re both sleeping in the living room
so he can sleep with his head propped up
and I can hear when he needs something.
Two nightlights are set for those moments
when I check his covers, his forehead,
decide his cough is too much, too hard,
and prepare a dose of medicine
the only way he’ll take it, then coax
him barely awake, and wait to see
if it worked. He doesn’t remember
but last night it was three times. Better
than when he was little, I stayed up
all night in the hospital, helping
in ways he doesn’t want to know now.