A letter to the other

I think of you often although we have never met.  You have been on my mind more the last few days and I admit, thoughts of you sometimes bring me to tears.  A year ago you gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.  I have struggled with what brought him to the orphanage—not your decision to relinquish, but the circumstances that brought you there.  I always imagined it was a difficult decision, but the depth of it was really beyond my comprehension.

Yesterday my sister gave birth to a spirited baby girl.  She is so fragile and tiny and is totally dependent on us for every little thing—to feed her, keep her warm, and to comfort her when she cries.  At birth she weighed the exact same weight as when your son entered the orphanage.  And it hit me—at one point he was not the strong little man that I love.  He was a helpless, teeny tiny baby that you walked away from.  I look at my niece and her fragility is so apparent and I wonder how hard it was for you to walk away from him.  Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I write this—not because of any anger—I can not and will not ever think of you with malice in my heart.  I cry because I can appreciate better than I did how difficult that decision must have been for you.  I wonder—did you take him in yourself or send a friend or sister in your stead?  Did you kiss his little cheeks the way I do or wonder what would become of him?

If I could I would assure you that he is happy—deliriously so.  He laughs over such small things and smiles, even at the person inflicting the pain (just ask the doctors and the nurses that provided treatments and immunizations).  I have you to thank for that.  His nickname at the orphanage was “Bubbly” and he is definitely that.  He is also ornery and spirited, determined and impish.  He has a way of drawing people in—with his eyes, with his smile.  He is incredibly bright and it sometimes scares me to think of how quickly he will outsmart me. 

I would also tell you that he is loved—oh so loved.  It’s not just the love that I give him or his grandparents or his aunt, uncle and cousins.  He draws love to him.  He impacts nearly everyone he meets in an amazing way that I have never seen before.  My friends have become aunties and uncles to him and the community around us has claimed him as “their child”.  When he waves to people it isn’t with his palm against the people in front oh him, it is with his palm up in the air as if to welcome people to him.

I wish you could see what I see.