Special is as special does.

I think Turner is pretty darn special. I am not alone in this, of course. And if there were any doubters—which there aren’t—this week showed a new layer in his special-ness. Something I took particular note of while we were home is Turner's ability to make others feel special. He has an amazing knack for reading situations and people, and then responding to this is thoughtful and compassionate ways. This is not a process that a kid just learns, but it is a cultivation one's spirit. Turner shows himself time and again to be so gentle in nature (as well as curious, opinionated, creative, independent . . . ).

"The Dramatic Endings" - On Friday night, Turner and I visited with D and CiCi where Turner watched a variety of his favorite shows while I worked on my NWSA conference proposal. When it was time to go, we shared love and hugs at the garage door. I get to the car, Turner close on my heals jabbering. In a split second he looks back to the grandparents sad to see him go and sprints into CiCi's arms. She melts, of course. D gets his fair share of hugging action, and then Turner is rushing into his booster seat. In the car as we drive down the road, I tell him how thoughtful I thought it was that he ran back and gave extra love to CiCi and D. He says, "Yeah. I am just gonna miss them SO much." He is quiet until we get to the Sav A Lot.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Will CiCi and D still be here when we come back to Kentucky?"
"Yes. But, we may see them in Tucson first."
He laughs in an exaggerated way. "Of course we will."
This dramatic scene of departure replays itself when Nanny and Pa drop us off at the airport. We fiddle around in front of security, talking to the service worker, handing him a Valentine and explaining the intricacies of fishing with Pa Pa. When the time comes for us to part ways, we offer love and thanks. I turn to walk toward security, assuming Turner is at my back, only to hear Nanny let out an "Ohhhh." I turn back and see him wrapped in her arms. Another second-chance love session ensues, and I know that Turner's effort to run back to hug them helped to convey how special Turner thinks they are. On the first plane, he is real chatty with the lady next to us (who is visiting her son who use to be a lawyer in Louisville but whose wife works with Yum! and got sent to Dubai; she lives in Campbellsville and was more than happy to hear all about Turner’s fishing and Pa Pa’s boat project and Grandma Bow’s house with the creek.)

“Uncle PatPat” – PK and Meredith journeyed down to have some dinner and chocolate chip pound cake on Thursday (?). While a very ugly basketball game loomed on the TV, Turner distracted us all. He took every chance he could to be in Patrick’s face demanding something, requesting something, or showing him something. In the kitchen, posing for pictures, he gave kisses out. I wasn’t in the kitchen, but I heard many “ohhh”s from the women and laughter from PK as Turner charmed his way through the room.

The coming back home is always a lot of work. In fact, we are still living out of two suitcases littering my bedroom floor. Tuesday night I heard Turner trip upstairs as he tried to sneak into my bed from his around 10. I was downstairs, and I heard a thud. I thought he was long asleep. Then I heard him yell, “Don’t worry Mom. I’m alright.” He had fell into the very large suitcase that I had half unpacked.
Turner has this way of yelling at me. He does it a lot and no matter how I respond he sees no better means of drawing my attention. What makes this okay with me, generally, is that most of his yells go something like this:
"MOM!" (great emphasis as though there is an emergency. Generally the yell comes out of total silence. Like, he’ll be watching a movie and I’ll be cooking and he’ll yell so loudly that I drop things in the kitchen as I run to him)
Then, after he has jumped my heart into my running shoes, he will make brief eye contact and sweetly, quietly say with total innocence "I love you."
It is easy to get lost in our work. Our time at home, the one with the trees and the grass and all the people who love us most, reminds me of the importance of stopping, relaxing, and enjoying most those things that warm my heart and make me feel special.