When I see photos of younger Charles before our struggles began, I have the urge to go back to a day when he was just a happy, joyous child. There is something so attractive about those days of innocence before his issues took him and our family hostage.
I remember when he showed up in our room at 7:15am in the morning. It was a Sunday and Charles was not yet in a toddler bed and I wondered how he got out of the crib. Richard had somehow helped his brother out and we’d never find out exactly how it happened. After that, he got a big boy bed.
Then there was the morning shortly after he got that bed, we couldn’t find him and we searched the house in a panic only to find him in the garage in his car seat sucking on his pacifier jumping around on the back seat with it in his mouth. He was unaware that he could have it any place other than his car seat and I’m so sorry now I didn’t just let him have it any time he wanted it. Because my child needed something to help him self soothe.
But the hug where he scissored his hands across my back and patted me while he held me was a habit he took into his teenage years. I miss that hug. It was a signature hug. I hope you give someone a hug today with that memory in mind.
