"I just wanted to come over and say hi" I began, having no idea what my opening line was gonna be until it came out my mouth, "because your son, is making me miss my son!"
His name was Dallon and he was ten years old. Non-verbal and so full of joy it seems to spill from his twitching hands and flittering eyes. Eyes just like Aaron's---not their color or shape or anything physical but identical in their enchantment. Eyes that if you are privileged to look directly into make you feel like you might not know anything at all.
She had so quickly asked me where I was from and what kind of resources were provided there.
I could tell she wanted to make sure their efforts" measured up."
That by no means was he hindered in anyway because they don’t have formal “help” .
That their son has everything he needs just by having them to love him.
That they were so very much enough.
And then I thought maybe I should remind myself of that too.
Our sons who struggle to connect, had connected us.
Our affection sons, who both love horseback riding and hair (his older sisters smiled when I said that and I wondered how many times they’d sat there letting their little brother stroke their hair, just to make him happy).
Our blissful boys, who both hold water in their mouths when they go down waterslides, just for that extra sensation of spitting it out as they themselves spill out the end! When you live in a world where difference is always so blatantly apparent, a little taste of similarities can feel so soothing.
Which is why once we were back up in our hotel room I grabbed my camera and told Ben I was going back down to find them and take a picture.
And I'm so glad I did because of all the things we did that week, it's Dallin's face I never want to forget.
Maybe I didn't need a picture for that after all.