Every morning I hope my husband won’t leave the house. But since the morning when I tried to have you sit at what Nurse Pamela calls the “family table,” Tom doesn’t even breakfast with us. I used to find his absence something of a relief, after everything we’d been through, but now I want him here by my side. And I want him by your side, too. I hope that he will join us in your room, if only for a little while. I hope that he will come and at least look at you—really look at you—and see what I can see: that despite everything, you still love him. I hope this will break his silence.
