I was remembering today all the times someone stopped me in the hospital, randomly on the street during walks, in the middle of the mall, and even on the beach. People, just wanting to stop, look, and admire my sweet angel.
Sure, he was tiny and cute, and started wearing glasses at just ten months old. But there was some kind of magnetism about him that just drew everyone to him. He was also always smiling, and that didn’t hurt.
I’ve concluded that his big purpose in this Universe was evident from the minute he entered this Earth. It was apparent, just by looking at him, that he would make a huge impact, even in just three short years.
And now, I have this new little soul, with big, blue, telling eyes, much like his big brother. He too, is a warrior. He too, faces a world of uncertainty with a warrior spirit I’ve only seen once before. My boys, my warriors, somehow made it into my arms and into my heart.
When I look at him, though he’s so different in personality, no relation by blood, born to another family altogether, I see the same fight, the same resilience, and the same unconditional love I once saw in his brother.
And I think, for just a short moment, between my grief and my overwhelming awe at the blessing that is this life, that maybe, just maybe, some of those wonderful and unique characteristics embedded in my boys, could have come from me.
Maybe, through the heartache and pain, the joy and laughter, maybe it’s true that these two boys were meant for me, and only me. A mama who could get hit with a boulder and somehow still stand to face another day. A mama who knows a sadness that crushes her soul, but will work tirelessly to find the happiness in spite of the hurt.
A mama, who works to be the best wife, the best friend, the best daughter a woman could be, but above all else, strives to be the very best mama to her baby in Heaven and her baby on Earth.
Maybe, just maybe, I was made for this.