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“A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014.”


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Izzy—Looking for any book that is Thomas-the-Train-related… any at all… in what is quite possibly his favorite place on earth… our local library.
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On the way to the park…

“Do you know how much I love you, Isaac?”

“What?”
{He always uses the word what to reply to any howwho, where, when or why questions that he doesn’t know the answer to. He’s still learning how to respond with the appropriate question-word to all such questions… I could ask him, “Do you know who’s coming to see you tomorrow?”, and he’ll reply, “What?” So instead of saying “how much?” as I held him closely in my arms on this walk, he said “what?”, but with the same inflection.}

“I love you to the moon and back.” I paused. “How ’bout you? How much do you love me?”

Holding up his index finger and thumb with little space in between {using the universal sign for “little bit”} he said, “Um, this… fifty dollars.”

I remember how much fifty dollars meant to me at his age… how it seemed like having that much meant I’d be rich. He loves me fifty dollars! I will take it!

He means the world to me. Always. Especially these days.

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