He looks up at me, its been six weeks since I have stared into those baby blues. His eyes a bit darker than they were when he left, he looks tired, older. During his time away he transitioned from a toddler to a big boy.
He showed back up, Friday at 8:30pm. We unloaded his stuff and bringing it back into our home. Placing his clothes in the drawers, still empty. As I make his bed we resume our bedtime rituals, as if we just hit pause.
He takes a step towards me, resting his forehead against mine, pausing for a moment. Letting out a sigh, he hooks his arms around my neck. Settling in, to the hole left in my heart, fitting himself back into the curve of my neck. In that moment, we both just sat, honoring the 10 month bond we had created.
The reason for his return, a combination of under resourced facilities and demanding needs of four children on one mom who is trying to learn how to live with each day without her escapes. He has stepped back into the “pecking” order and seems to be readjusting just fine.This transition has a price tag, a cost to him one we may never know. A loss yet again and a timeline so unsure, how many times can they do this?
Today he is here, sleeping down the hall, his tiny shoes are by the basket and his Paw Patrol shirts are mixed in the laundry. Sigh. I missed those, more than I even realized. I have been so moved by my crew they have welcomed him back with open arms, caring and loving on him so well. For now, we press in, soak it up and fight hard for healing. For whatever reason, his journey brought him back here, to us and for that we are so thankful, even if for just a moment.