Incomplete

So many kids came home this week from their time at summer camps all over the country.

"My house is full again," someone told me.
"We're all back together again," another one said.
"Family complete," said a third.

David and Yael returned to the nest after their time at camp.
I was so glad to see them.

And yet it felt so incomplete. My nest will never feel complete again. In some ways, having them out of the house in various waves made it easier to feel the conspicuous absence of Sam. Always there.

We settled down to our table set for five.

Incomplete.

Thinking about starting school and filling out forms -- one whole set left undone.

Incomplete.

There was an article published this week about a blessing for "completing" one's family.

Perhaps I'm just superstitious, but I never wanted to close the door on that. Sure, I knew that I was probably done having babies. But I never felt that the word "complete" was the right one for how my family felt. It was good, it was wonderful, but I couldn't close the door on welcoming someone, anyone, into our family. In a sense, we were always incomplete, always ready to open our doors to someone else...biological or not.

But this article gave me pause. Because without realizing it, I had considered us a "complete unit."
And now we're not.

We're incomplete.
Forever.

Returning from camp 2012 -- I took David to shower and put on new clothes before he could come to the hospital to see Sam.

Returning from camp 2013 - right to RonMac (and also a shower, of course!)

And this year...

Where we were a year ago: welcoming David "home" from camp to RonMac
Where we were 2 years ago: having "fun" in the hospital