Saturday, April 28, 2012

My Brother

Archer Jeffrey Cox makes my heart melt.

Every time my little man gets a treat, he demands one for me too.

When he eats a cup cake he wants to save a bite for me, for when I come home from college.

He misses me.

And I miss him.

A little over five years ago, my parents told me they were going to adopt another baby. I told them they were crazy. As a disclaimer I was a thirteen year old, selfish teenager at the time. All I wanted to do was hang out with my friends and NOT have to babysit anymore than I had to at the time. In my self-centered perspective one baby was enough.

My parents, having a much better perspective than mine, went ahead without my approval. It wasn't long before they were off to Utah to pick up a new little boy. Challis, Grace, and I stayed home with relatives. A few days later they returned with a chubby, cranky, and incredibly loud baby. In my eyes, the kid was a wrinkly raisin, that cried and pooped far too often.

He was a hard baby and I considered that fact simply a confirmation that I was right (thirteen year old, self-centered opinion remember). But then everything changed one day in Boise, Idaho. We went to the temple. As we were sealed together as a family for eternity my perspective widened in one beautiful shining moment. The friends that I was so concerned about, the time I wanted to spend with them, was meaningless compared my family. And in that building, on that day, I knew. I knew that Archer was my brother. That it didn't matter that we didn't have the same DNA, or that he was cranky and wrinkly, all that mattered was the he was mine. And was always meant to be.

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