Jammies are on. Puppies are lined up along the wall next to the bed. I pull the covers up to his chin. I lay next to him, and we talk about everything we did that day.
He smiles from ear to ear thinking about going to the playground, eating pizza with his cousins, playing trucks, and riding on his uncle's shoulders.
"I went to Abigail's, Mom." He smiles.
I look at him in awe and remember how Cecelia, the owner of the adoption agency, spoke with him on the phone the day after he came home.
She crooned in Korean," You are home now. You will live a long and happy life."
Her determined words absent of doubt make me feel special. But my obligation to this beautiful child is huge.
I will make sure he lives a good life.
Better than good.
We will smile and laugh and give pizza kisses. I write down quotes from his 3 year old ramblings. I record my thoughts and love here in this journal.
I never thought I would look at Min man every day and remember what a gift he is.
I am his mother.
He is my son.