Wednesday, May 16, 2012


Oh sweet Keaton, what a life you could have! If only your family knew you were laying there waiting...and waiting...and waiting. Waiting for almost 6 long years. Probably most spent laying there on that pink blanket.

Why are you laying there still? Those big, long, scary words in your file were a life sentence. CP, internal congenital hydrochephalus, ventriculoperitoneostomia. 

BUT, Keaton, those big, long, scary words do not define you! 

Instead of those words I see a little boy at home with his family. Splashing in the bathtub with his little brother. Driving matchbox cars down the arm of the sofa. Snatching the last bite of his sister's cookie off her plate when she isn't looking, and then giggling with delight, little tongue poking out, when she can't figure out where it went. Off to his first day off preschool. Walking. Laughing. Loved.

One day, Keaton, your mama will arrive and scoop you off of that pink blanket and never, ever, let you go!

No comments:

Post a Comment