december 21st

There are six drafts in my blogger post listing that I started, never got back to and thus never published. There are countless ideas in my head that I've formulated but never to completion. I am determined to make this post happen, even though I don't have the time to make it what I want. sigh!

December 21st, the shortest day of the year. My baby is 18 months today. Last year on this day, a very brave young widow made a very brave, completely unselfish decision. The ultimate sacrifice. Lacking a husband and the money to raise her young son, she opted to put him up for adoption. She said she hoped he'd have the opportunity to be educated, to be successful, to have a good life. 

These are the sweet little feet of that baby. That baby of hers that I get to kiss and snuggle and bathe and put to bed each night. That I get to call mine.  I wish I could tell her thank you. 

I wish I could send her pictures of her Tamagn with his two brothers. Tell her here he is at a Christmas concert where he got to hear violins and cellos and french horns. Show her how he still sucks that right thumb of his. I'd tell her how well he is walking, running, climbing up and standing like a little daredevil on anything he can.

Do you know that he loves stuffed animals? And real animals. And babies. And that now he can sing "hallelujah" and he sings it all. the. time. And he knows how to pray and those little paws of his clasped together at dinner melt me.

I'd tell her that is he learning so well to mind his mama and be kind to his brothers and is absolutely adorable when he nods his head a definitive yes and says, "ma'am! ma'am!" And he has learned to sit and read baby books and he loves Where's Spot? and Curious George and Dr. Seuss too.

And I'd tell her how much I've anticipated this first Christmas at home with our boys. How I've dreamed about it for two years. How thankful I am that we got to tote two little Ethiopian boys on our backs when we hunted for our Christmas tree, decked it out with lights, celebrated with friends this joyous event, the birthday of our Savior.

And I'd probably feel down-right embarrassed at how much I have. How rich and full and good our lives are. How much beauty surrounds me everywhere.

I don't know if she knows Jesus. I pray she does. I pray one day she will. I dream of meeting her this side of heaven. Of presenting Tamagn to her,  all grown into a fine young man. Knowing I don't need her approval but hoping she would approve of how I've raised her son. Hoping I'd fulfilled her last wish for him.

Rambling thoughts. Incomplete. All I have time for, for now.