It’s late July in Washington, D.C., meaning it’s hot. Really hot. There is no way around that. Oscar has taken to either sleeping on the couch or at the very bottom of the bed, away from any and all body heat. I get it, but I really miss snuggling with him at night.
I remember the winter we were moving to Bogota. Robinson had already left and I was living in Bob’s basement. It was a very cold Minnesota winter and there was one small baseboard heater in the basement. Oscar was cold and would snuggle so close to me at night.
One night I was sleeping on my back and Oscar was snuggled under my arm right next to me. I rolled onto my side, leaving a space between us. He wasn’t having that and scooted over closer, snuggling alongside my back. I don’t know why I remember that – of all things – but I do. I think I always will.