Arrive

We're going in shortly, he writes in a text I see when I stir at the far end of the dark night, her water broke. I fall back asleep and dream of healthy babies with our aunt's face, with a full head of hair and we're already making jokes. I dream I cry, and when I wake again, there are tears drying on my cheeks; I wake smiling.

The day carries on impatiently, with every stir of my phone I jump. He sends videos of her dancing, I make stupid jokes with lots of swearwords and wonder how quickly one could traverse an ocean, if one really really wanted to do it at the speed of light.

And then, while I step away from Friday night cocktails and icy Brooklyn winds to look at my phone again, he is here. I stop in my tracks, wonder at the wonder. How life is so hard, so long, with so many wrong turns and impossible walls to scale, how the wind is cold and the nights so lonely and how still in just one moment, everything can change and nothing is what you ever thought. A year ago, how we were broken, and suddenly how some pieces have melded themselves together, suddenly, how a whole new piece changes the puzzle entirely. Everyone is happy, is healthy.


My sweet little boy, you are too young yet to know what a miracle you are. Too young to feel in your heart the kind of love that breaks us open and drowns us and we do not turn it down. Too young to understand that just by existing, you are so much more than enough, so much more than anyone could have ever asked for. One day you will know that your parents dreamed you into existence, that you are their dream come true, and I hope that day takes your breath away the way you have already taken all of ours. 
My sweet little boy, everything you do from here on out is icing on the cake.
 
I don't know if there is
forever
but if there is
it always belonged
to you.