We were far more nervous than you, of that we're certain.  Still, you were no doubt confused.  Things had been difficult for you during your first year.  We don't know the details, and we are probably glad of that.  There were certainly ugly moments, though, incidents that must have frightened you terribly. 

Still, you were loved, that was obvious.  We know that because of the ease with which you returned love to us.  We know that because only love could produce the sort of sacrifice that led you to us.  Because, son, you were not given up because no one wanted you.  Far from it.  You were given up because they to whom you were born recognized, through love, that they could not give you what you needed most.  They did not have the capacity to transform their love into the nurturing, stable environment a child must have to prosper in this world.  Never think, however, that they did not love you.  Their love was immeasurable.  That is why you are here with us.

And you know what?   They love you still.  They always have, and they always will.  Never forget that.

The social worker at the agency told us you were very shy.  It may take some time for him to warm up to you, she said.  But she was wrong.  You were handed to Mom, someone you had never seen before.  But you didn't cry or turn away.  Do you know what you did?  You smiled.  At that very instant, we fell in love with you.  You became a part of us.  I cannot believe there was a time when that was not the case.  Even before we ever laid eyes on you, you were with us, in us, of us.

Eight years have passed since that evening.  We have watched you grow:  physically, mentally, and emotionally.  Most parents brag about their children, how good they are, how accomplished.  We do not brag very much, but we don't need to.  All who know you can recognize what a special child you are.  You are such a good boy, we weren't even surprised when the teacher praised your "gentle goodness" on your last report card. 

Eight years since you became a part of us.  You just celebrated your ninth birthday, and are half way to becoming a man.  But stay a boy as long as you can.  Get dirty.  Throw a ball.  Swing a bat.  Run.  Draw with crayons.  Make noise.  Do what boys do.   Because you do it well.  Your boyishness is a joy to watch. 

Eight years since you have shared our family name.  Some of the times have been hard.  You lost one grandmother just after your 3rd birthday.  Do you remember Mammaw?  She was thrilled when you came into our lives.  She specifically asked for this picture to be at her bedside during her last weeks:

Not long after she died, we went to the county fair, and a nice man gave you a helium balloon.  You have always loved balloons.  Do you remember what you did?  You released the balloon, and as we watched it float higher and higher into the nighttime sky, you told us you were sending it to heaven as a gift for Mammaw.

Unfortunately, that was not the only loss you have experienced in your short time on earth.  Not long after you turned 5, you lost Pappaw and Grandma in the space of just 6 weeks.   Do you remember when Pappaw called to wish you Happy Birthday?  He went into the hospital later that day, and he was gone 3 days later.  You were the last person he called before he died.  Soon after that Grandma got sick.  It was a difficult time.  It is not fair that you have had to grow up without a grandmother.  Life isn't fair, though. That is a lesson I wish you didn't have to learn, but learn it you did, and far too early.

Eight years living under our roof.   Before then, your mom and dad were a couple.  You made us a family.  You brought laughing chaos into our house.  Sometimes that chaos drives your mom and dad a little crazy, doesn't it?  But that's OK.  Because the laughter is much more lasting than the chaos.  Never forget that.  We would not change it for the world. 

Eight years you have been our son.  The best eight years of our lives.

Happy Adoption Day, son.  You make us so proud.