The Envelope

They say a picture is worth a thousand words.

I've never tested that theory, but inside my home there are pictures waiting to prove that theory. Pictures which sing the haunted notes of Jumby's history.

Notes which get louder when I near the small safe in the back of my closet. A safe containing a a large envelope. Inside that envelope contains photographic evidence of the evils of mankind. Proof that hell exists and the Devil is, indeed, very real.

That envelope remains sealed, locked away in the darkness, away from the curious prying eyes of my children, but it's contents aren't forgotten. They can never be forgotten just as they can never be seen. Boo and I are reminded of their existence with every passing moment of our day every time we look upon our son.

A year ago, Jumby came into our home. With little pomp and ceremony, a boy became our son.

Today my family celebrates the joy of Jumby and the love he has so freely given us. We celebrate the milestones he has reached, the goals he has set, the dreams he harbours all locked away inside his head.

We celebrate the normalcy of his daily life, the tube feedings, the therapies, even the fact that he is currently constipated and on my counter awaits an enema with his name on it.

We celebrate the realities and the challenges having Jumby in our family brings us. It's not always easy, and as the enema can attest, it certainly isn't glamourous, but it's ours.

Today is Jumby's day.

We love you kid, no matter where you've been, what you can do, or who you grow up to be.

We love you Jumby, because no matter what the pictures inside that envelope say, your smile will always say more.