What I do remember is the way I fit between his right arm and his body, and the way his neck and the underside of his chin look in the soft yellow light of my lamp, which has a cloth lamp shade, light blue, covered by an alternating pattern of robots and spaceships. This is what I remember: (i) the little pocket of space he creates for me, (ii) how it is enough, (iii) the sound of his voice,
