Staring at the screen, listening to birds chirp, gray sky, flecks of rain. Is it too sentimental to say that Robert's smile really lights up any day? Such a statement. But when I feel uncertain, when I worry about what I may or may not have given him emotionally, worry that he hasn't had enough activity or one-to-one any given day--I think about whatever gives him pleasure and how when he smiles his real smile, not his half-smile, not his mischievous smile, not his I'm-not-going-to-pay attention-to-you smile--everything brightens and my heart lifts.
That's another cliche: my heart lifts. But some of these things have a basis in physiological feelings. Long ago I scoffed at the idea your knees could go weak when someone kissed you. Then someone did who made my knees go weak. Expressions can be an extension of the body. My heart does "lift" when Robert smiles that real smile: my chest raises, something in me goes light.