The Door to Home

I pulled into my driveway from a trip to the grocery store, this was a couple of weeks ago. I pulled the car in the garage, turned off NPR and headed into the house. As I was walking up to the back door I realized there was a little person standing there, ready to greet me. Liam stood there quietly and expectantly until our eyes met.
At that moment of our eyes meeting, his face exploded into a huge grin. He jumped up and down and hollered "Mom! Mom!" over and over. I opened the door and grabbed him up into a hug. He told me a few things about what went on in the house while I was gone, though I understood none of it.
After that brief pow wow on the back porch, I put him down. He looked up at me and smiled again and he simply turned away, pushed open the back door and walked into the house.

It was such a simple thing. Pushing open the door. But it caught me right in the guts and  a profound thankfulness welled up inside of me.
Here he was. The boy that we had so longed for. The boy that needed a home so badly.
He turned, opened the door, easy as you please- and walked in. Into home.
Home.
He knew it. It was plain as day. He was so relaxed and non-chalant about it. He belongs here and he knows it. He's okay with that.
Hell, I am very okay with that.