A few years back I wrote about my dad telling me that Stevie Wonder had written his classic "Isn't She Lovely" about me. I still recall the feeling of sitting in the backseat of our family Pinto, hearing that song come on and having my dad say, "Here's Lori's song!"
A few weeks ago I was snuggled up with Nathan, and I was showing him this post from our very first trip to Haiti where I had documented all the things I loved about our Little Man and all the things I have loved about him since the very first time I met him.
At the end of that post, is this paragraph: "Our last night in Haiti, as he was putting Nathan to bed, Daddy broke down and said, "Daddy's going to miss you something terrible, Little Man. You are definitely someone special."
As I read that, Nathan's eyes got wide and he said, "Will you tell me that again?"
I read it to him again.
He said, "Mama, is that true?"
I told him it was.
He said, "Are you sure?"
I said, "Yes, it is. Do you want to go ask Dad if it's true?"
He said, 'Yes, but you have to come with me!"
We went down the hall to where Brent was. Nathan was half-bent over behind me, and I could see his face frozen into that look he gets when he's trying to prevent his smile from bursting out.
Brent said, 'What's going on?" (because Nathan's posture was so weird) and I said, "Nathan would like to know if something's true."
Nathan said, "You say it, Mama."
Brent looked more puzzled.
"I was just reading on the blog about our first trip to Haiti and how that first night in Haiti, as you were putting him to bed, you started to cry and you said...", I said, mentally willing him to remember.
Realization dawned in Brent's eyes and he said, '... I'm going to miss you something terrible, Little Man. You're definitely someone special."
Nathan leaped from behind me clear into Brent's arms and squeezed his neck so tight.
And as tears welled up in our eyes, I recognized the look on Nathan's face and a flood of emotion washed over me as I remembered what it felt like to be a little person in a big person's world and to know, for a brief moment, that the adults in your life thought you were special.
If only I could bottle that feeling for him.