Thursday, December 20, 2012

I'll be Home for Christmas...

T. and D. at the airport early this morning
Our boy is home.  I should say our man.  He is so grown up and in charge and sweet and smart and witty and fun all rolled into one.

We had to bundle him into a winter coat and boots as the difference in temperature with Anguilla was 50 degrees at 1 am this morning.  So we did, we bundled and coddled and cooed and took our treasure home where we unbundled him and coddled and cooed some more, all three of us, until we were sure that he was for real and that we could let him go for a bit.

Listening to him I wonder what V. and I did to give birth to such a force of nature.  He is so passionate about medicine, about people, about poverty, about racism about humanity.  I love his ethic, his ideals, his view of life.

Needless to say, I am overwhelmed with love and am trying hard not to: hover, question, meddle, kiss, hug...  But he is the one making the first move. Every few hours, he opens his arms and holds us tight.

I'll be home for Christmas, you can count on me
Please have snow and mistletoe and presents on the tree

I am a sappy, happy sentimentalist.  I asked for one thing for Christmas, and I got it.

Bonsoir,

Stella

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