We waited in the front room. She bounced a balloon around, a remnant from her party on Saturday.
“Who’s coming today?” I ask.
“Mommy and daddy!” she said with a grin.
“And what are you going to do with your daddy?”
“My daddy is coming and he is going to give me candy.” More smiles. More balloon bopping.
“And what are you going to do with your mommy?”
“My mommy is going to give me cookies.”
The door bell rings. She squeals, giggles, and runs to hind under the desk to surprise them when they walk through the door.
With minutes to spare before the ride to the court house they whisk their little one upstairs to get all dolled up in crisp new clothes. Hair pinned up. Shiny white patten leather shoes. And a smile that won’t stop.
Some quick pics on the porch. The sweet social workers hurry all out to the cab. I crouch down next to Alicia and wrap my arms around her body. Flashbacks to her tiny newborn body resting against my chest. “I love you,” is all I can squeak out without tearing up. A hug and kisses on both cheeks for the proud parents. Reciprocal gratitude. Propped up on her mommy’s lap with her face against the window we wave happy waves.
Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Alicia. You are so very blessed. And we are so very blessed to have had you step into our lives these four years.