Ethan

Daughters,

I want to tell you about when I thought I'd have a son.

It was long ago... so very long ago... 

I was dating someone I thought I might someday marry, and we would
often talk about the kids we would someday have.

And I unilaterally decided we would have a son, and his name would be Ethan.

And I was quite sure of it. Perhaps as sure as I was that I would someday marry that boyfriend I adored and loved.  

The boy with the warm and honest smile. 

The boy with whom I laughed and danced.

The handsome boy I talked with on the phone all hours of the night.

And every once in a while I still smile when I think of that would-be son, Ethan, because
it reminds me of a great love, and because his name was significant and well-thought out.

Someday I will tell you how I derived at that name, Ethan.

If I told it to the world now they would see deep into my heart, and maybe that's a place I only want to tell you girls about. 

But I can tell you and the world now that my boyfriend with the warm smile seemed to quietly agree it woud be a fitting name.

And I should add that though I would have loved Ethan, I am complete and happy and fulfilled and overjoyed I had my 2 beautiful and distinctly unique girls. 

But... I admit....

 I do think of Ethan from time to time.

Not in the way that you miss someone, or miss a place or time, or feel sad, or like you've lost anything.

But I think of him in the way people sometimes think about and miss a small part of themselves.

A dream or memory that you shared with someone once upon a time, that
has long gone unspoken of with anyone else. Like a secret, but the good kind of secret that connects people to each other. 

That's the good kind of secret.  

The kind of secret that reminds you of a warm, honest smile. 

Sent from my iPhone