Monday, December 28, 2009

Living Large

I love this photo.
What a magnificent image of Sam at five, Sam and I.
We're home safe.
The boys were remarkable travelers.
Strangers were kind, help was abundant.

Uncle retrieved us from the airport
and had a feast waiting for the weary trio-
what a gift.

(In the car waiting for Uncle to put the suitcase
in as I buckle him in Sam announces; 
Mom that was the best time-
I am so happy still!

I kiss his head and reply,
You couldn't have said anything to make me happier.)

Unpacking is one of my joys.
Reliving the week in folded pieces,
and play dough canisters tucked in winter boots.

Sam's birth mother's birthday present was waiting
on the kitchen table.
Transformer pajamas, two DVD's, and a five one dollar bills.
An envelope full of family pictures,
and the card.
"I love you very much, and I always will."
What a gift.

Of course to myself I am thinking;
you wouldn't have loved the way he
just tackled his little brother...

I want to text her immediately and thank her
and tell her that he loves the pajamas
(and not tell her they were a little small,
and how I am secretly OK with that, as if
somehow that shows that she is not
completely in sync with everything
about him, although
damn close) but I wait.

I need time to land too.

I notice the floor in dire need of a wash,
the draft blasting in from the window,
and the hole in my quilt that looks
even bigger somehow.
Sam asks if our toilet got lower
to the ground, as Marcel
runs around with the one stuffed animal
he managed not to bring with us
in his arms.

Everything is perfect in the homecoming

Sam asks if he can eat in my lap.
Marcel wants to sit next to Uncle.
I can't believe how lovely the man next to Sam
was on the plane the entire way home.

We are all soft around the edges.

Lists start to write themselves;
thank you notes,
call someone about this,
and ask someone about that,
and then I look at them
and all of us
and I relax-
because we made it home in one piece-
 and we are all amazing and
this is enough.