He remembers. These boots that drew his attention to me, just one adult in a sea of many the first day we met, he remembers them. I wondered if he would when I zipped them on this morning. I haven't worn them since the early days of his time home and the Indiana weather is finally cooperating and acting the season.
I find it incredibly hard to believe that it was only nine and a half months ago that I was seeing this child for the very first time. It seems he has always been a part of us. There were a lot of us crowding into the foster family's humble home that day - Shawn and I, our translator, the social workers, their driver, plus some curious extended family members of the foster family. All of us were focused on this tiny little boy.
All were vying for his attention. Instinctively, I slid to the floor.
At the time, I had no way of knowing how very important shoes were to this boy. He loves shoes. In fact, that was his very first word in ASL. His favorite way to decompress after preschool is to close the door to my closet and rearrange my shoes. Shawn often finds matchbox cars in his boots when he puts them on for work at night. His foster family showed us a picture of his third birthday cake. It was shaped like a shoe. We didn't understand it at the time. We do now.
This morning, I sat on the floor and called him over to show him my boots. He reached out and slowly patted them, then, without warning, he lunged for me and wrapped his arms around my neck and held me. For five minutes, my son who is rarely still, sat in my lap and held me close.
I think he remembers.
I find it incredibly hard to believe that it was only nine and a half months ago that I was seeing this child for the very first time. It seems he has always been a part of us. There were a lot of us crowding into the foster family's humble home that day - Shawn and I, our translator, the social workers, their driver, plus some curious extended family members of the foster family. All of us were focused on this tiny little boy.
All were vying for his attention. Instinctively, I slid to the floor.
It was less than a minute before B came over and started touching my boots. He started patting them and tried to lick them a few times. "Ne! Ne!" He giggled. It wasn't long before he was hiding his toys under my legs and then pulling them apart to find them again. Then he belly laughed. Oh my heart! That boy can laugh! When he laughs, his eyes completely disappear. Cutest thing, ever! --blog post, First Visit, Jan. 30, 2013
At the time, I had no way of knowing how very important shoes were to this boy. He loves shoes. In fact, that was his very first word in ASL. His favorite way to decompress after preschool is to close the door to my closet and rearrange my shoes. Shawn often finds matchbox cars in his boots when he puts them on for work at night. His foster family showed us a picture of his third birthday cake. It was shaped like a shoe. We didn't understand it at the time. We do now.
This morning, I sat on the floor and called him over to show him my boots. He reached out and slowly patted them, then, without warning, he lunged for me and wrapped his arms around my neck and held me. For five minutes, my son who is rarely still, sat in my lap and held me close.
I think he remembers.
So sweet. Some things are just engrained in your memory. Like the lady with the boots coming and taking you home.
ReplyDeleteTears.
ReplyDeleteThis definitely made me tear up.
ReplyDeleteOk...tears here....
ReplyDeleteNo tears, just really bad *sniff* allergies.
ReplyDelete*sniff*
Silly pollen.
Awwww that is awesome. He and I would be buds. I remember people by their shoes, too :-)
ReplyDeleteLove this.
ReplyDelete