Nocturnal Wenchy

Dear friends and other interesting creatures,

I wanted this child so very much. I prayed him down from heaven, including asking God that please,  I do not want a boy with red hair! Have mercy. I never found out the gender,  but I was having a boy. My boy.

I wanted to give him the world but my ruby slippers were dusty and instead, life dished us a bone-crushing of a white picket fence.

My Kev was there for every happy and very sad… Every sunshine and every rain,  every peanut butter sandwich and everyone with cheese.  I cringe with heartache when he casually shares what he remembers. I wish he didn’t.

Not long ago I was once again apologising for something I felt I could have done better in his life.  He looked at me with empathy (which he reserves for few, mind you) and said :

“Nancy,  thank you for leaving my father. If it wasn’t for your bravery I would never be where I am today. Those experiences made me who I am now. I am grateful. Thank you. You did good. “

Besides that, I still don’t know why the kid calls me Nancy… I cried. What do you say to that? Sure? Anytime!? Twice on Sunday?

None of my biological or adopted by heart kids are wallflowers. They are all opinionated.  Loud in happiness and sorrow. Very me,  but don’t tell them.  They all want to be their own people. #dammit

Be Kev’s principles right or wrong… or at very least extremely questionable,  you can forget about him changing his mind.  Wonder where he got the stubborn streak from?

Kev did not mention his intention,  nor the design of this tattoo with me. I stumbled across it on Instagram in the middle of the night and looked at it for a long time,  a lonely tear falling down my cheek.

The bear paw (an easy nod amongst to the Gay community) Kev got in remembrance of his Daddy Brian (the second in my long list of husbands – which sounds less exciting than it is, but the father my children deserve), who came into Kev’s life when he was four years old. You do not need DNA to be a Dad.

The butterfly inside the bear paw is for me.  I have a huge butterfly on my right arm representing my kids which is why Kev decided upon the butterfly. Skin colour,  no ink. Thank you, Kev. It means so much to me.

Kev did laugh and say he was thankful we were at least both born in 1973!

Love is patient,  love is kind and love never questions another man’s ink.

I love you, my boy.

I wish you enough,
Wenchy