Dear Collin,

I've been thinking about this post for awhile now. Today marks the one year anniversary of the day that changed both of our lives forever. Last week, Auntie Chareyl needed some paperwork to finish your file with the adoption agency. As I was looking for it, I came across some of the emails that were sent the night of the earthquake and early the next morning. I remember the day of the earthquake pretty clearly. It was just like any other day at the office really. Until a little after 4:00 when I listened to a voice mail message that I didn't understand from my friend Tara. She was asking if I knew whether or not you were okay, I had no idea what she was talking about. Then I went to MSN to check out the news. At first, I thought it was just a little tremor, no big deal. I called Lolo and we both decided it was probably nothing out of the ordinary. Then I got home from work and turned on CNN. That's when I saw the first picture of the Presidential Palace. That's when my heart stopped.

Truthfully, that's about all I've been able to handle in the reminiscing department. Last night, I tried to look at this blog from January of last year, but as soon as I start reading, I felt that anxiety, fear and overwhelming sadness I felt those first few day when I didn't know if you were okay, or if you were scared, or if you were fed or...I had to stop. I don't know what you went through those first days, from the accounts I've heard from some of the older kids, it was pretty horrific. Even knowing you were just down the hall, tucked safely in your bed wasn't enough to stop the heartbreak. Apparently, I'm not quite ready to deal with that. Maybe I never will be. I don't do well with human suffering, and I know that your countrymen are still hurting. A lot.

I think about how you are still afraid of loud noises and how you run, not away, but to me when you hear them. I can't imagine how scared you were that day. I think of those big brown eyes and how you question EVERYTHING. I wonder what you were thinking when the world started shaking and people started panicking.

I looked at the book Aunt Lolo is making to commemorate the one year anniversary of the earthquake. I hope you will look at it often. I hope you will truly understand how many MIRACLES were granted in the two weeks between the quake and the night I held you in my arms for good. I hope you know how many people gave up eating, sleeping and essentially living to get you and your friends home. I hope you know and never doubt how much you are loved. You and your friends were the catalyst for a lot of faith and a lot of prayers being sent to a loving Heavenly Father. Uncle Brent, Auntie Chareyl, Scott and the rest of the people we called Team Hope, literally risked their lives to go find you and bring you home to me.

I also hope you will never forget those who are still there. Harry and his family, Nadia, Ralph and his family and of course sweet Jess. The Auntie's, that mommy never really met, who apparently just started grabbing children and throwing them out the door when the walls started falling down, and thereby probably saving your life. Then taking those they could and just running, not knowing if their own children and families were okay. Harry, who already had so many people to look after and take care of, and who had already lost so much himself, still made sure that you were okay. I don't know if it's possible to inherit something from someone you're not related to, but if it is, I hope you will be strong and compassionate like Harry. I hope you will always keep them in your heart. I hope you will always be as grateful to them as I am. They are such strong, amazing people and I'm so glad that they were part of your life, I hope we will be able to see them all again. I heard someone talk recently about how difficult it can be to "inherit" someone else's goal. I think in a way, you've done that. So many, gave so much to get you home. You have a lot to live up to. So do I. I have no doubt you will. I still have a hard time reconciling the suffering that the earthquake caused with the joy I feel at having you home with me. It seems wrong to be so happy, when so many innocent people are still struggling. But then I look into your big brown eyes and that confusion is replaced by love and gratitude. You are the most incredible little boy and I still can't believe that I am the one that gets to be your mommy. I love you my sweet son!