January 15, 2006

Callum

Callum is the sweetest little boy that I know. He is the key to my heart: just a brief thought of him will bring tears to my eyes. When I saw him yesterday, I had been away for almost two months. We have been talking on the phone regularly, so we were familiar, but when he saw me he seemed so intrigued that I was physically present; he looked up at me in wonder and with love in his eyes. As I looked at him, I could hardly believe how incredibly beautiful he was; I have never seen anyone as beautiful as him. He is teaching me about unconditional love: I love him so much, but I want and need nothing from him.

He showed me all of his new toys and we ran around the house being knights on horses. And then he sat snuggled up in the den that I made with my legs and he told me that he was a baby trapdoor spider and that I was a daddy trapdoor spider.

Today he and I walked in the woods, hand-in-hand and we sang the "postman pat" song together. He is Percy the train and as I walked along, his little legs ran along next to me. He insisted that we all hold hands in a row as we walked: my mum, Callum, I and Isabelle. He insisted that we "hold tight".

There is very little as sweet as fathering, there is nothing as sweet as unconditional love. I am so grateful to feel this inside of me, to carry him within me. And I am so grateful for the opening to my own sweet child that he is facilitating; he is a masterful therapist.