And, then, shortly after breakfast, while Ethan and Meira were drawing at the table, Ethan alerted me to his artistry. It was a momma-sized hand with a palm-sized creature whose body was without much form but it had little limbs with fingers and toes. It had a small eye and the very beginnings of a mouth. He asked, "Momma, what was the name of the little boy you were going to have?" With grief swelling in my throat and eyelids ready to pour out saltiness, I managed to breathe out "Adam." It wasn't the official name. We never actually gave him one. We talked about it. I'd always loved the spanish name Adan which is is translated as Adam in English. Adam means "of the earth." It seemed fitting.
Jolted out of my flashback, Ethan asks innocently "How do you spell that?" He wants to write it down, by the picture he drew of his little brother. He wants a name for his brother. That's what we do---name life.
And, in naming we give him a place in our life and a way to remember. So, today, when new life miraculously bursts forth for a friend, we remember our Adam and give thanks.