Tonight I wish your mother was home to hear the sweet sound of your falling asleep, the sound of silence trading a days-long cough and a fit of sneezes.  But she was not home.  She was away, in class, accomplishing her latest midterm, doing the grueling part of something she loved.  But I will surely tell her how you fought off the cough monsters in your chest, how you prevailed against the sneezing that held you just this afternoon, and she will go in for herself to kiss your face, to check you visibly, to listen to you breathing.