You only get so many chances to sleep next to your favorite person

I have a troubling relationship with sleep.

It's not that I don't sleep well. I generally fall asleep quickly and stay asleep all night. The actual sleeping part isn't the problem.

It's more my attitude toward sleep. I know the majority of  people love sleep. They embrace it. They relish sleeping in, hitting the snooze button, and staying warm and comfortable under the covers.

Not me. I see sleep as more of a necessary evil, even an annoyance sometimes. I enjoy being busy and doing things. Sleep gets in the way of that, and while I know my body and brain need to rest and recharge, there are nights when I crawl into bed and can't wait until 5:30am rolls around and my feet hit the floor again.

There is, however, one aspect of going to sleep I love. It's sliding under the covers in the evening and seeing my wife there next to me. It's a feeling of comfort and blessing that almost defies description.

Lately I've become more aware of the fact that this arrangement will not continue indefinitely. I don't mean to be morbid, but the reality is that at some point, one of us won't be there to get into bed anymore.

This is a terrible thing to be thinking about at this point in my life, especially when you realize it's highly likely both of us will be around for many, many more years to come.

But that doesn't change the inescapable fact that the number of times I get to kiss my wife goodnight and turn out the light is not infinite.

The sensible reaction to this – and the attitude I take, happily – is to be grateful for the opportunity now rather than dread the day it goes away.

I am thankful for many, many things in my life, but maybe none more than lying there in the dark, looking to my left and seeing Terry there. It makes me feel safe, secure, happy and blessed. It's the one thing that leads me to think, "OK, maybe these next 7 hours aren't ones that will be wasted in inactivity, but rather spent next to one of the greatest blessings I'll ever receive."

I still can't wait to get going again the next morning, but if you have to sleep, you might as well do it next to someone you love.