May 28, 2008, was Kylor’s anniversary. He waited for the day, his special day, his anniversary to come. It has been seven years. Seven years. And he was ready to celebrate and feel special.
My little boy came home from St Petersburg, Russia, when he was just 16 months old. We met him for the first time when he was 14 months old. Our tiny little sad faced, scared boy. But I dreamed of him for so many years. I prayed and dreamed and waited and waited and waited. Thinking now of that wait, well, I just cry. It was a long journey to get to him (and I’m not talking miles!).
From the beginning, I was so proud of my boy. He spent the first 16 months of his life in an orphanage, and he had begun to shut down emotionally. But when I met him, I was so proud of him, so in love. So in love, in fact, that I could see past how shut down he was. I could instead see the life in his eyes, the twinkle of things to come and into the soul of my boy. He was beautiful, he was there. He was trying to hide it, but he was in there and I saw it.
When he came home and opened like watching a flower bloom, my mom admitted to me how frightened the first pictures I had brought home of Kylor made her. He had sad eyes, he was small and scared and withdrawn, pale and shy, emotionless. I look back at those photos now and I understand what she saw. But I had seen so much more that she did not, and I love how I could see right into my boy from the beginning and know him so well.
Kylor has always known his story. I’m a mom with bragging rights. We worked hard and long to have him and I was tickled that all that produced my perfect little boy. So, I usually can’t help myself when I let even strangers know that he came home from Russia. I beam, I brag, I am so very proud of him.
So, when on his seventh anniversary, he was so excited and proud himself, I knew that, well, it was a job well done. At school, he proudly told all his friends and class what day it was, he told people on the phone when they called, he beamed when he announced his anniversary to all the waitstaff at Frien*ly’s. When he told some that it was his anniversary, and it was met with a confused look, he didn’t miss a beat and explained his whole story. And he explained it with such pride that it was all I could do to hold back joyous tears. He is so PROUD of himself. He is proud of who he is and how he got here and where he came from.
I’ll remember his seventh anniversary forever. The day he had the restaurant waitstaff lined up at the counter telling them his proud story and being congratulated. This just wasn’t time to say happy birthday and move on. He told them, so they could realize, just how special this all was to him, to our family.
And he was proud. So, if I don’t say so myself, here’s to a job well done!
And a special shout out to other kids who get to celebrate their anniversaries and share this special day with their classes and relatives and even strangers. It helps to look at this happiness and shout it from the roof tops! It’s the most amazing thing to have kids feel so proud of themselves.
He was so happy that he told me he wished his anniversary would last all week. I let him know that we would celebrate it for a life time.
