My Journey to Holland

My Journey To Holland

“Ma’am, Ma’am” woke me up from this beautiful dream as the plane arrived in Holland. As I walked off the plane the stewardess shot me a warm smile and with that one gesture I knew things would be just fine. As I walk down the jet way I could feel the cool spring air, the sound of the birds singing the praises of a brand new day, and the smell of newborn tulips from the pasture in the distance. Holland was beautiful, it was new, and it was home. Walking through the terminal my fears of this unknown place slowly began to fade away and as I wait for my bags at the carousel, I began to recall the the series of events that brought me to my beautiful new home. I had my reservations about Holland at first. I really wasn’t supposed to be here. I had originally planned on Italy. I planned for months. I knew everything about Italy. Where to go, the sites to see, the Michelangelo, the Coliseum, the Gondolas in Venice. I had even learned a few phrases in Italian as to blend in with the locals. My guide books had been brought and read, I was ready for Italy, not quite so ready for Holland.

My son Julian was born on July 17, 2004 at 1:32am. He was everything I had hoped for and more. I had heard stories from other parents after having had their children, but no words could ever compare to what I felt looking at this beautiful five pound 7 ounce burrito wrapped in baby blue blankets. I couldn’t wait to bring my newfound piece of heaven home. I had so many plans for him. He was going to play soccer, be in little league, go to the Gifted and Talented School we had all gone to. Follow in our footsteps of greatness. He was the perfect boy and he was going to have an equally perfect life.

With everyday that passed I fell in love more and more. He was such a happy boy full of smiles and laughs, he loved us and we loved him more than he could ever understand. He was such a smart boy. He even knew how to show you where his heart was. I...