Today was a bitterly cold day in our city, and it is a frigid -1 (Fahrenheit) as I type this.
But last year -- last year was warm. Not here, where the polar vortex was in full swing. But in a little city outside Bangalore, India, it was in the 80s. In that little city, our hearts were also warmed by the sight of this little face:
It seems impossible, but somehow, we have spent an entire year together already! In many ways, our memories of those first moments and days are so fresh: we remember that you were sleepy after your nap, that you went to Peter first, and that you were afraid. We remember how tiny you were, how impossibly light you felt when you let us hold you. We remember the first smile you showed us, when we set your duck on a shelf and so you could knock it off over and over again.
And in some ways, we can tell it has been a full year. There are physical signs, like the fact that you've grown almost 4 inches, and gained 5 pounds. There are audible signs, like your vocabulary of hundreds of English words, the way you try to boss your sister and brothers around, and the way you laugh at your own jokes (right now, you think the word "bottom" is hysterically funny).
But we can especially tell it's been a whole year by the light in your eyes, and the way you relax and rest your head on a shoulder when any one of your family holds you. We can tell by the way you claim us by declaring who we are, often: "Kavya's mama." "Kavya's akka/sister." "Kavya's daddy." "Kavya's anna/brother." There is no question mark at the end of those phrases -- they are a statement of fact for you, and for us. You have grown deeply into our hearts and into the fabric of our family.
It is brings a pang to look at photos and see how bewildered you were in our first days together. And I am so humbled by your willingness to give us a chance, to begin trusting us in an impossibly short time. What courage you've had in your short life, Kavya. You've endured so much -- being separated from your first mother, suffering illness and surgery as a baby, and then being plucked from your familiar world and transplanted into a new home.
And then you showed us how resilient and strong you are by thriving in the midst of so many changes.
You are one of our richest blessings. We are grateful for this first year together, the first year of forever.
But last year -- last year was warm. Not here, where the polar vortex was in full swing. But in a little city outside Bangalore, India, it was in the 80s. In that little city, our hearts were also warmed by the sight of this little face:
It seems impossible, but somehow, we have spent an entire year together already! In many ways, our memories of those first moments and days are so fresh: we remember that you were sleepy after your nap, that you went to Peter first, and that you were afraid. We remember how tiny you were, how impossibly light you felt when you let us hold you. We remember the first smile you showed us, when we set your duck on a shelf and so you could knock it off over and over again.
And in some ways, we can tell it has been a full year. There are physical signs, like the fact that you've grown almost 4 inches, and gained 5 pounds. There are audible signs, like your vocabulary of hundreds of English words, the way you try to boss your sister and brothers around, and the way you laugh at your own jokes (right now, you think the word "bottom" is hysterically funny).
But we can especially tell it's been a whole year by the light in your eyes, and the way you relax and rest your head on a shoulder when any one of your family holds you. We can tell by the way you claim us by declaring who we are, often: "Kavya's mama." "Kavya's akka/sister." "Kavya's daddy." "Kavya's anna/brother." There is no question mark at the end of those phrases -- they are a statement of fact for you, and for us. You have grown deeply into our hearts and into the fabric of our family.
It is brings a pang to look at photos and see how bewildered you were in our first days together. And I am so humbled by your willingness to give us a chance, to begin trusting us in an impossibly short time. What courage you've had in your short life, Kavya. You've endured so much -- being separated from your first mother, suffering illness and surgery as a baby, and then being plucked from your familiar world and transplanted into a new home.
And then you showed us how resilient and strong you are by thriving in the midst of so many changes.
You are one of our richest blessings. We are grateful for this first year together, the first year of forever.
