Seeing Him Again

P1020168I got to talk to Soccer Boy today on Skype.  I met his mama and brother.

Smiles and happy.  Lots of laughing at the way we couldn’t communicate.

Laundry hanging on a line behind their heads.  Faded wallpaper and a doorway leading to the maja he knows.  The maja he longed for.

I miss him.

But I’m glad to see him so happy, playing with the toys I sent, holding each one up with a smile.

And to see the way she touched his hair and covered her mouth when she laughed.  Their eyes sparkle alike.

You are home with your mama?

Ja.

Joy bubbling over.

Thank you for sharing your boy.

Thank you for America.

I will take pictures of my maja and my country.

Yes.

Share your life.  Share with me.

And someday, I will come.  I will come and find you there and hold you and tell you that love doesn’t know distance.  And I will hug your mama.  And I will kiss the chubby cheeks of your bralis.

Because there they are, real.  And she is loving you.

And I find I love her, too.

I love your people.  The reserve that covers the spark, the way a hand covers a laugh.  The flit of the eye, the words that come deliberately but confidently.

You, little boy, introduced me to a love I never knew I had.

Someday, I will come and touch your face again, and sing to you, and laugh with your mama.  And you will sigh at us both with your boy-frustration as you did today, and we will laugh together, and we will both get to ruffle your hair.

And maybe that someday will never come.  Maybe it will be a different someday.  We will see.

But our lives, they aren’t over yet.

And for that, and for smiles behind hands, and for eye-sparkles, and these two worlds, I am so grateful.

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