024: Family

2009

"Momma, look!" Henry's voice draws my attention and I glance down at the floor where he's laying, his many crayons surrounding him. A large piece of white construction paper is laying in front of him with crayon markings and shapes all over it. After a moment of studying it, I can clearly make out five stick figures- two have dresses and large yellow blobs over their heads, two are wearing nothing but brown blobs on their heads, and the fifth has stripes of orange come from its head. All five figures are standing in a row, the ends of their stick arms touching each other, and there's a crudely drawn house in the background. It's beautiful, in a preschooler sort of way.

"See, Momma? It's our family!" The four year old smiles proudly.

I nod, unable to get rid of the smile that's found its way to my mouth. "Do you love our family?" I ask.

Henry nods. "'Cept we're not really a family, right? Not like me and you?" He asks innocently, not a trace of malice in his voice.

I pause momentarily, confused. "Well…well, no. I mean, we're a family, you and I, and Kim, Max, and Eli are a family too. But together, we're one big family." I explain.

My almost-five year old son stares at me silently, and I can see the gears in his head turning. "Are we gonna be a family forever?"

Now it's my turn to remain silent as the gears in my own head turn. The plan, of course, is for Kim and I and our three kids to remain one family for the rest of our days, but as we all know far too well, things like that hardly ever go as planned; Kim didn't plan on having to leave her wife, our children didn't plan on losing their mothers, and I certainly did not plan on losing my wife. I'm afraid to tell my son that we'll be a family forever because I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow or next month or in five years, but at the same time I know that, regardless of what life throws at us, there's no way I'd be able to take Henry away from Eli and Max, who have become the two siblings that Henry has never had, even despite the short four or five months they've known each other.

Still unsure of what's going to happen and aware that I'm always going to be unsure of what's going to happen, I answer my son. "Forever and ever." I assure him.