I am his home base and he is mine. I was his refuge, his warmth, his food. I was all he knew. Slowly he became comfortable enough to crawl or walk away, but always with a glance back. Now he runs and hides but always sneaks a peek. (I pretend I don’t notice sometimes. Others I flash him a big grin) He has become my refuge, warmth, and food for my soul. He may not say “Mom” very often or all that clearly but when he does. I melt. Like this afternoon. He woke early from nap and we thought he may go back so I grabbed him, his blankets…