In our culture, the child sleeps with the mother till he/she is old enough for a separate room. I being the youngest, and being the only girl in the family and born when my mom was 40 years old, slept beside her till now.
I remember as a kid sleeping with my hand on her, I used to try match my breathing with hers. Hold my breath to exhale and inhale to go with the same rhythm.
Mom had breathing trouble and last week, as I was sitting by her bedside, watching her breathe through the oxygen mask, I tried to match mine with hers. It was erratic and I couldn't even last for few seconds.
Made me realise, how easily we take for granted the way we breathe? A nose with 2 holes, and the air, which we can't even see. But that's the only key to the life that holds us togethar, and how grateful we should always be.
I did have the priviledge to see my mom's breathing gradualy slow down, and as she breathed her last, well fought yet a peaceful one leaving the world for the Heavenly appointment.