Four

Today was the first day Zoey got to see a park. It was a trip worthy of a stop at Starbucks before going to Central Park in Southaven. When we pulled her out of the car seat and bucked her in to her stroller, I realized that this was less trip to the park and more humbling rite of passage. 

How? Well, I started my life away from Wes as complete stranger, with my own childhood memory of going to the park with parents. Separately, Wes and I played on swings and slides, ate lunch and dreamed of our fun days during car rides home. Over the years, we spent time with friends and family in this arborous garden while bathing ourselves in the hot and cold elements around us. We played surrounded by families of few and many, of young couples and babies, not stopping to realize that one day our lives would also change. Then when we finally met, we spent time at a park. We just about believed that the in the lobster with the caribbean accent in that cartoon movie really exists. The leaves swayed in step with our hearts and after the sunset bathed us in loving hues, the moon shone with beams of love. We knew it was absolutely meant to be.

And now there's this. A baby. A tiny little replicate of both of us, of the best of us, inside one little 12 pound, 21 inch body. In a lovely little yellow carriage, perfectly defined by the relaxing feeling that it creates while in use. We stroll through the park together, all of us thankful of the little family of Wes, Zoey and I. Passing young lovers who can see no one else other than their sweetheart, and families with children who have nothing else on their minds than to play. We joyfully walk the path, thankful to our loving Father God for every step that He has been with us on this journey, while looking forward for what He has for us beyond the horizon.