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The tiny upside to Julia's recent illness was a close-up view of her sleeping habits: what she looks like, the sounds she makes, how she moves around. Saturday night, which I spent on the couch with her on my lap, I saw just how much she loves her "silky" blanket. As she nodded off (over and over, since she was also throwing up three times an hour), she would hunt around for her silky by patting her hand around her . On finding it, she'd select a small fold in the blanket, put her thumb and forefinger on opposite sites of that fold, and then rub those fingers slowly and softly together - the universal "got money?" gesture, but much sweeter and - when she was so sick - sadder. She's better today, and I like to think she's upstairs, rubbing her silky right now.