It's been (about) 4 weeks; 672 hours; 40,320 minutes.
We have (about) 6 weeks; 1,008 hours; 60,480 minutes.
Another first son....Easter came and passed without you here. My truth: I didn't want to acknowledge the festivities, but roots in the eyes of your brothers reminded me that I serve as both wind to you and water to them; your wings lift you while their roots are growing deeper.
Although the Easter eggs were blown and painted, a hunt was held, and family was hugged, I clutched my phone hoping that was the day you got an unscripted call. But the day passed all the same. The minutes and hours moved as steadily as they ever have not bothering to acknowledge that I needed time to tell you about the egg we painted for you; the nighttime hunt we had to have; my worst game of dodgeball to date. And had that phone call have happened, I probably would have sat in silence just to hear your voice and really only asked if you had a good meal for Easter filled with the feeling of family amongst your brothers and sisters in arms. I hope you did son....I hope you couldn't call because you were (are) forming family roots alongside growing your wings. My truth: I didn't begin this journey wanting you to form roots anywhere else, but you see my wings are growing still too.
We have (about) 6 weeks; 1,008 hours; 60,480 minutes.
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