The Missing Person In The Pictures

Last night I received a text from your parents, they had just finished touring the Sonoran Desert Museum with you and said that it was so much fun! It was your first big outing since you left the hospital and you were so precious curled in the arms of Kelly. I could tell from their faces that they could not be more happy to have you in their lives, part of their completing family. They told me that right after they were finished they were going to go to Scottsdale, Arizona to wait out the finalization of the adoption before they could take you on the long road trip to Colorado, so many miles away from me. Looking at the picture they sent me of the three of you gave me such joy that each and every one of you are so happy to be in each others lives, but part of me cries. It cries because I am not in that picture. I am not there with you, my son, to keep you safe and happy.

I have to keep reminding myself of what I told you the last time I saw you, you can find my love anywhere you look.

I spent part of my morning sitting out on the porch of Gandara Farms letting the sun warm my skin looking at the clouds passing above me and the peaks of the mountains littered with trees. I knew that it was the same sun that kept your eyes shut tight for protection, the same sun that caresses your soft ivory skin, the same sun that keeps you warm enough to show the entire world how perfect and delicate your hands and feet are. That the clouds that float above me are the same clouds that you will one day lay under daydreaming about life, love and what is, could have been and will be. I remind myself that even though the Arizona mountains have nothing against the towering ones in Colorado that someday soon you will be hiking up with your new parents enjoying all of the sounds and smells of a nature that is so unlike the one you were born into. I have to remind myself that the wind that I feel silken and comforting brushing the tears rolling down my face are the same ones that will reach you and surround you with the overflowing emotions of happiness, joy and love tinged with sadness for losing you.

Today, just as any day, I woke up hoping to find you swaddled next to me as you were the two nights we had in the hospital together. In my sleepy haze I could almost smell the sour smell of the formula from the bottles that always surrounded us and the faint natural perfume that always drifted from your skin that was only detectable when I held you close and kissed your forehead. I could almost feel your comforting weight cradled in my arms and your soft skin and silken hair brush my shoulder as you squirmed ever closer needing to know that I was there to protect you and keep you warm.

I want you to remember that even though Holly and Kelly will raise you you will always be part of my life. Not a day will go by that I do not think of you and what COULD have been. I will always want to do anything and everything to make you happy, safe and to give you what you need to thrive and flourish in life reaching the endless possibilities that life could take you.

You are my son.

You have my blood flowing through your veins, my hair on your head, my inquisitive eyes taking in the world, but you also have my will and my strenght to conquer whatever obstical gets in your way. In the few days I was able to spend with you I could tell that you were a fighter, decisive and knew exactly how to get what you wanted. Those traits will remain with you and help guide you through the hard times life will throw your way.

You also have the guidance for two amazing Moms that will mould you into the person you will become. You have not one family to fight and love and cherish you, but two who are completely devoted to your well being. I pray that you will never feel alone with all of us behind you, no matter the distance.

I love and miss every inch of you my son,
Jess, The other half of your family.