I listened to Jon read endless hours of "Winnie the Pooh," to a sick Baby Tess during her three week NICU stay. His voice was always calm and patient and hopeful. After a while, I felt like he was reading more for us, than for our baby.
The doctors kept coming into our baby's room and saying more scary things about our newborn girl. As soon as a blue scrubbed person left our room, I'd tell Jon, "Please keep reading." He'd pick up his place in the witty English banter and I'd try to force air back into my lungs again. As long as Jon read Winne the Pooh, and I could rock Baby Tess in a rocking chair, then our life was slightly normal and comforting again. Jon's voice made our family a home inside an alien hospital room.
Jon and Sick Tess, with our worn copy of Winnie the Pooh on his lap