|Sleeping with my boys with hopes of a life full of the same opportunities.|
I was flooded with joy when I felt Alkaio's arms wrap around me for the first time in a week. All I wanted in that moment was for him never to let go, but his unadulterated excitement for his Boston trip (and the hotel pool) made it clear that he didn't understand the fragility of our family's circumstances. We have come to realize that each new experience we have as a family may be our last. I suppose this is one of the many blessings God has given us in this new profoundly difficult reality.
There is nothing easy about our new life. It's not convenient, it's not predictable, and it's not balanced.
|Not your average hotel kitchenette counter.|
But you know what our new life is? It's a constant reminder to live and to love. Because of Zacchaio, we stopped and enjoyed our sandwiches on a plaza bench, instead of on the run. He helped us savor sweets from a historic chocolate shop in the shadow of Paul Revere. And then there is all the excitement! We found ourselves power-walking through crowds when Zacchaio was on the verge of vomiting in the carpeted Old North Church. And just last night during a feed in the park, a thundershower sent us scurrying for a patio umbrella to keep Zacchaio and his pump dry. It would be easier to stay home. It would be easier to go with the most convenient option. It would be easier to stick to what we already know. But that's not what we want for Zacchaio, that's not what we want for Alkaio, and that would not be us.