When I get home

January 14, 2007

It’s not uncommon for Jon or me to tear up when we’re on the phone with Little Jon. As far as kids go, he is one of the sweetest souls (if not the sweetest) I have ever met.

So when he asked to talk to me on the phone last night and loudly told his mother that he was “talkin’ to An-jew-la!” I knew that I was ready to have him here and wrapped in a big bear hug.

He is not as talkative as Babs, so I normally find myself prompting him quite a bit with questions. He is, after all, only three, and for being just three, he does a hell of a good job on the phone.

Last night, though, I didn’t need to prompt him. He went on and on about his trains, the Ant Bully and the pirate ship we’re going to play on when he gets here.

“When I see my Daddy, I going a run to him in da airport. An he gonna run to me, too.”

“Yes, sweetie. He is.”

“An I gonna hug him.”

“He’s going to hug you, too. We love you.”


“And Smokey loves you.”

“Yeah . . . Smokey like to play ball.”

“Yes, Smokey loves to play ball. Will you play with him when you get here?”

“Yeah. I play wid him. I play wid him when I get home.”

At this point, I started to tear up, and Jon got that look on his face, you know the one. The one that made me turn my head away from him and put my attention back to the little one on the phone.

We spoke for a few more minutes, and I passed the phone back to Jon.

There are times when I feel like a failure, like the things I’ve done in my life that have received recognition really don’t mean that much and the things that mean everything I haven’t done so well at.

But when I hear that little boy’s voice, and he tells me that he knows his Daddy loves him, I have a respite from the mother guilt that is too present in my life, and I get to breathe deeply of this little boy’s love and spirit.

For him — and for Jon — I have made a difference, and I am grateful to have been in his life. It helps make up for all the other stuff. Someday soon, maybe I’ll get to go home, too.



  1. Ang, this is such an amazing piece. What are you trying to do here? Make me cry?? Stop it! 🙂

    The fact that you can write about your feelings like this speaks volumes — like, for instance, that maybe you have nothing to feel guilty about. I have always believed that folks who don’t realize that they could use improvement are the ones who need it most.

    Maybe one day you’ll realize that you will never get to go home … because you never left it.

  2. Ang, this is really moving. It helps to write about your feelings, trust me I know. I was just out blog hopping today and surfed into your blog. I plan on returning.

  3. Aw, Dan. Now you’re making *me* cry. Thank you! I’m learning, slowly but surely, I’m learning. I’ve always been pretty quick at book learning, so this life stuff really takes me back with how tough it is sometimes. Thank you so much for all your encouragement and support. You really rock, you know. xoxoxo

    Rose ~ I’m so glad to stopped by. There are so many truly excellent blogs out there that I am always humbled that anyone would choose to spend their time here. I’m thankful to have the company and hope you return. Best wishes!

  4. Dan – Except for those of us who are perfect and therefore have no feelings.

    Very sweet post. The love and enthusiasm of young children certainly does make a difference. BTW, I just saw the movie Children of Men, which demonstrates what a world without children would be like. Scary. I highly recommend it.

  5. Diesel ~ I’m heading to my Netflix queue as I’m typing this. Thanks for the recommendation!

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