we have no pictures of andrey as a little boy.
ok – one. we have one picture and he’s about six or so years old.
we were however given this sweet gift: our boys look exactly like him.
i often stop myself in our everyday life and catch a glimpse of my dear husband as a little boy while i watch lucas play or gavin napping.
lucas took off into the corn maze last week. he just wanted to ruuuuuun. fast. and as i chased after him, i was overwhelmed with love for andrey’s mother. something about the corn stalks and the crisp cold air and lukey’s corduroy jacket took me somewhere i’ve never been before. i imagined her watching her boy run through ukrainian fields. i imagined that she wished the same sweet wishes for him – that i wish for my boys. i imagined also – the tinge of fear we probably shared that these boys of ours might just run too fast and we may just lose them to the adventure of the fields if we couldn’t keep up.
i’ve never met andrey’s mother – lucas and gavi’s babushka. she’s been on my mind lately. especially this month for some reason. i’d been meaning to ask andrey if there was any significance to me associating this autumn season with his mother – until this morning. when i woke up to tell him happy birthday.
this was her growing season.
on october eighteenth, twenty-nine years ago, she first held her baby boy. i wanted to call her today. really bad. i just needed to know what time of the day he was born. something i think a person should know about themselves. i wanted to know how she labored. what kind of blankets he was wrapped up in? if his hair was dark like gavin’s was. was he a good nursling? did he cry? and then i just wanted a minute to tell her how much i love him. how i will try really hard to take better care of her boy. i’ll remember to love him good.
i wanted to let her know – what a good, strong, loving man her boy has become.