Do you mind if I call you Lion. I have read your story thus far and the name seems to fit you. You are brave. You are strong. You are a survivor.
When I saw your picture, I fell in love. I knew, in that instant, that we were destined to be together. I have spent the moments since, studying the lines of your face, staring in to your beautiful eyes. I have your face memorized. I can close my eyes and see you before me, laughing, smiling, calling my name. You are mine and I am yours.
But I see that I have gotten a little ahead of myself. You do not know me. We have not been properly introduced.
I am your mother.
And you are my son.
My son. My son. My son.
I repeat those words over and over like a mantra as if by speaking those words you can hear me calling you. Those words connect us through time and space. We are one you and I despite the miles between us. 7,500 miles, oceans, mountains, continents, languages separate us.
They separate us now but we will be together soon. You will know me, know my face as surely as I know yours. We will be a family forever.
I used to call you Turtle, but I was wrong. You were not slow, I was. I delayed and stalled, dragging my feet. I didn't know why. But now I do. I was waiting for you, my son.
And now I must wait a little while longer to hold you in my arms. This may be the hardest wait of all. But I know that it will be worth it because you and I will be together, forever.
My lion. My son.