Three years ago, the dark, restless room was made alive as a tiny new presence, arms stretching up over his head, greeted this world as his father and I stared, caught our breath. Commotion turned to peaceful silence–his crying, then nestled, serene.Those first few months he taught us a softness, an appreciation for slower and gentler. I would sit on our chair as he nursed, watching tall trees outside our window sway, heavy with birds, at times finding my tears mixing in his hair.
Even now he surprises us, his thoughtful heart, his fistfuls of tattered flowers, “For you, mama.” At night, cupping his brother’s hands in his under the tap, placing soap, “I teach, you…”
Our hearts were born anew three years ago to a thick shock of hair and a peaceful body, tucking perfectly into our arms.
We love you dear boy, and we encourage you to take this world with your spirit, brave and true. To live in a way, truly Alive as you do.
As you continue to bless us in more ways than you know.
Today you are three years old, a boy in place of a baby.
It hasn’t gone too fast, like they said it would. But you have grown slowly, evenly, all in your own time, into the boy we can’t wait to wake up each morning.
“I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
with closed eyes
to dash against darkness”
― E.E. Cummings