Peanut is the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on. He has this intensity to him -- everything he does is big. He laughs big -- from the bottom of his belly. He loved me with ferocity. He dove into learning headfirst -- as we read books before bedtime each night I would teach him the Arabic letters and how to read some words in English. With each new word... zoo, bus, car... he would raise his arms and cheer "hoorah!" He reacts big -- at camp when he felt angry or hurt he would lash out and punch. While I never condoned hitting and anger management was something I planned to work on with him, I respected this quality of his. He didn't know how to hem and haw and second-guess himself. He trusted his instincts and acted. He was silly and goofy and could find something funny in every situation.

I learned so much from my kiddo. He taught me the power of a mother's love. And I will always, always love him as my son. He taught me the true meaning of forgive and forget. One weekend, with my broken Russian, I told him that we were going to get him a bike the next day. He must have believed it would be next to his bed in the morning, because he was disappointed from the moment he woke up. We had plenty of people to see in the morning and a Kidsave group activity in the afternoon and he just pouted more and more. He was so angry with me. But when we cleared it up and he understood he hugged me and all was forgiven.

Peanut brought so much joy to my home and my heart. My world was complete with him in it. As hard as these past months have been, it was all worth it knowing I was going to bring him home. Now, I'm floundering. I feel as if I've spent months on a raft that was rocking wildly in the waves -- but I was always tethered to shore. Now my tie has been cut loose and I feel lost. If I'm not Peanut's mom, who am I?

He's everywhere in my home, everywhere in my town. His presence is palpable. I don't just mean his pictures, toys, or belongings. The memory of him and everything we did is alive. Hopefully that will become a comfort, but right now it's cloying. There's my living room floor where I envision him playing ninja or imitating the somersault Willie Wonka did. My backyard where we spent hours playing soccer and catch. The stores where we'd walk to and he beg me for treats. The little nooks and crannies of my home where he'd hide random things like the keys to my neighbor's house. My loveseat where we'd play cards and he'd cheat -- I'd call him "Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater" and he'd laugh and laugh.

He's everywhere and I miss him so much it hurts.