Dear Luke

My Dear Luke,

As I peruse through the trails of the last photos of Utah, I can't help but feel overcome with love for you. For family. For the knowledge that we are an eternal clan, tied at the hip. And I wouldn't -- couldn't -- have it any other way.

You are my life's aspirations and dreams realized. 

At 19 months old, you're stuffed full of energy and that feisty personality only continues to emerge and unfold into the one and only you. You are already 3 feet tall (98th percentile for height!) and your hair is blooooond. Someday you won't believe it, but consider all these photos and words proof. You have two darling dimples in the still chubbiest of cheeks, and one is slightly deeper than the other, just like your mama. You like to talk, with your most recent words being "mo-mo-tycle" (motorcycle) and "boo-bebbbbiiieee" (blueberry). There is no mistaking that you are 100% boy, because you cannot get enough of anything with a motor in it. Trains are currently the ultimate favorite, but trucks, cars, and motorcycles don't fall far behind (and riding the lawn mower with Grandpa was a new thrill all of its own).

Most of all, you adore people. And I adore that about you. Ever since you were just a few months old, you've held the incredible ability to connect with others. You thrive on human interaction, and I truly believe it's one of the many gifts with which God has blessed you. You aren't afraid to smile and love others, and I hope you never lose sight of the value of the human connection and spirit. Relationships are what this life is about and each and every person matters. And somehow in that tiny soul of yours you seem to grasp that. 

Good gracious, gee whiz we love you! Don't you ever forget it, kiddo.