reflections

Caleb,

That moment.  I still remember glancing up from the paperwork Daddy and I were filling out and seeing you walk into the room.  You were clearly unsure of your surroundings and not too keen on the strange looking adults you saw.  It took every ounce of self restraint to keep from scooping you up into my arms and kissing those cheeks I'd studied in pictures for months.

And I'll also never forget the moment that the SWI staff was ready to go and it was time to pick you up and hold you in my arms.  You were absolutely terrified, but in that moment you made the brave choice to trust me.  Though grief over your entire world changing would occasionally overcome you in the following weeks and months, in that moment you became stoic.  For the rest of the time we were still in your country you clung to me as if I were the oxygen you needed to breathe.

A favorite game of yours within days was to run at me full force and nearly knock me over as you crashed into my arms.

were you and kylie ever really this small?

I can still hear that joyful, carefree giggle.  I must have closed my eyes for a second or two to soak in the sweetness of it though and when I opened them again, here we are, five years later.

These days you speak English and are a whole lot taller, but you are still running most everywhere you go.  This has been an asset on the soccer field and has made you the fastest kid on the playground in first grade.  You also have a great sense of humor, love a good challenge in math, eat more than a grown man for breakfast, and are more tenderhearted than meets the eye.

I am humbly blessed to be able to call you son.  Thank you for teaching me, day by day, what it means to have part of my heart outside of my body, wrapped up in dirt and adrenaline.  Though it seems impossible, I love you more today than I did that day five years ago when you walked into my life and chose to hold onto me.

I'm so thankful that you've promised to always 'be my boy.'

Yours until the sun no longer shines,
Mommy