Don’t Let Me Forget
I’ve been writing about our adoption expedition and what I believe about adoption. I’ve been filling pages and pages with memories and dreams and beliefs – letting my passion and my stories spill out onto documents that may or may not ever have a life beyond the hard drive of my computer.
But as I write all of this, I’m reminded that the most important thing I can do is remember. Remember how it felt to be lonely, heart-broken, raw. Remember how it felt to be overwhelmed with generosity, humbled, joyful. This life is such a gift and I am grumpy and selfish when I don’t remember how we got here, what great courage and faithfulness brought us to this point.
As I’m remembering all of these big things, I also never want to forget:
- how Addy makes a happy “hmmmmmmmmmm” when she sees food coming to the high chair, her little feet kicking with delight
- how she crosses her feet in the car seat and looks out the window like a teenager
- how every morning she greets us with an open-mouthed smile and chortle, as though she can’t believe her good fortune that we’re here
- how it feels when she sighs and snuggles into my chest when she’s tired
- how the top of her head smells
- how she wraps her little fingers around mine, or fiddles with my necklace
- how she leans over to see my face around the camera, or doorway and how delighted she is to find that I’m still there
- how she talks to her toys and to herself, a quiet little “hmmmm, bah, bah, hmmmm, gah”
She won’t be little forever, and her story won’t always feel so fresh and near. But I never want to forget these little moments, how much our life has changed because of her, and how many promises God kept in order to make this incredible life possible. Big and little, he is in every detail of our lives, and I’m endlessly grateful.