You’re probably already asleep tonight. Since your house has no electricity and the sun sets early in Ghana, you go to bed early. I am at the hotel now, waiting to leave tomorrow. When I went out earlier I stuck my feet in the pool, all I could think about was how you BEGGED me to take you to Accra to go swimming. I would have, but the decree that says you are mine never came. Without it, it just isn’t a good idea to take you away from your mom, especially for days at a time. I’m not your mom yet, not even officially your guardian. I looked at the pool tonight though and could picture you both swimming there.
I can’t believe we were just together and I miss you this much already. My tree climbing giggler and my serious guy. I kept telling you how soon it would be that daddy would come to file the I600 and then I would come back to bring you home. I’m praying for the strength to do it. This trip took its toll. I love your people, I love your country, but life is so hard here. I came expecting to accomplish so much, and all I did was witness a lot of foolishness from Americans and the very difficult situation which you currently live in. I have doubts that coming was a good idea at all. I pictured us bonding, a little time away. It didn’t work that way at all. I think I might have left you more confused than before I came.
If I could somehow make a trade that would allow me to just blink and have all this be over, I would pretty much give up whatever it takes to get you here. A year of my life, our brand new car, whatever. I would give it all away to get you to us just a little sooner. I miss you so much, it hurts.
who is going home to a full, but incomplete, home.