Tag Archives: Reading

Happy One Year Anniversary!

11 Feb

Dear Little Man,

A year ago, I had an idea and I didn’t really know what to do with it. I knew that I wanted to tell you things. I knew I wanted to tell you about yourself and your adoption and your beautiful adoptive family. I wanted to tell you about how we all came together. I wanted to tell you about me and my life. But mostly I knew that I loved you and that I loved to write.

Sometimes I would see things and they would make me think of you. I would see a father playing football with his son at the playground across from my apartment and I would think about how you couldn’t even say your own name but you knew how to say “touchdown.” I would see the scar on my cheek (from an unfortunate incident I had with a wooden bench when I was four) and I would think of you and the time you fell on a toy grocery cart that you got for your first birthday. And when I would think of you, I would want to talk to you. I wanted to be able to tell you all of these stories someday. All of the stories of your incredible life — I didn’t want to leave out a single one.

So I talked to a friend who had a blog. And then I did some research. And then I was buying the name “Letters to Little Man.”

And then I wrote you a letter.

That was February 6th of 2012. That was one year and five days ago. Since then I have written you 142 letters that have been read by over 15,000 people. And one day, I hope they will be read by you.

Happy Anniversary, Little Man. I love writing you letters and even when I’m too busy to get them to you right away, I’m always thinking of you. I’m thinking of things I want to tell you. I’m thinking of things I want you to know. I’m thinking of the dimple in your chin and the sound of your laughter. I’m thinking about the moments we’ve shared and the smiles we’ve exchanged. I’m thinking about all of the adventures we have yet to experience that are going to make wonderful memories. I’m thinking of how connected I feel to you even when I don’t get to see you. Even when I miss you.

But out of everything I’ve written you — out of all 142 letters — I still believe that my first letter carried one of the most important messages I could ever share with you: I love you. Love came to mean something entirely new to me after you arrived — you defined it. You embody it. You are love to me. You are love and as long as I have you, I will always have it. Thank you for that gift. Thank you for being you.

Happy One Year :) Here’s to many more years, many more memories, and many, many more letters…


One Year Anniversary

Fate and Bookstores

7 Jan

Good things always happen to me around books. I love, love, love to read, so I suppose it makes sense. But the past few times I’ve been in book stores, strange (but wonderful!) things have been happening: I run into old friends (I saw one from middle school the other day) or very helpful strangers (the author of one of the books I was looking at just happened to be in the store and struck up conversation with me).  I met The Boyfriend in a library. Plus, most book stores have coffee shops in them, and if that’s not a good sign, I don’t know what is.

Last Saturday I was in a bookstore with Aunt S. We had just come from lunch and decided to stop in at the Book Exchange. It’s a great little place. The walls are made entirely out of bookshelves and there aren’t really “tables” so much as there are “nooks” with comfy chairs or couches, tucked away behind the shelves, perfect for curling up and reading while you sip coffee or wine. Aunt S and I love to study there during the semester.

So on Saturday, we found ourselves a tiny table with some comfy chairs in between two massive bookshelf-walls. As we’re sitting and talking (which we can do marathon-style for hours) I happen to glance over at the bookshelf right beside our table. It was a glass case filled with books that were over $50 — classics, vintage copies, signed copies of American classics by the original authors. I think we found one for $550!

As we’re looking, I turned my head and sitting (quite literally) just beneath my nose was this:

Little Men

I know it says “Little Men” instead of “Little Man” but still…too close to be coincidence. Speaking of which, I got to see you later that very same day for dinner while you were in town to see C, your biological father. But it’s moments like these — finding Louisa May Alcott’s “Little Men” sitting right beside me at a random table we happened to have chosen — that make me smile and give a nod to the Big Guy (or Girl or…Entity) Upstairs for some truly excellent planning.

It’s nice to be reminded that Someone Else watches over us too :)

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