This is our family as envisioned by a five-year-old Lucas, who is now six. He drew the picture and asked me to write the names he wanted on it.

I’ve spent a lot of time appreciating it over the last year or however long it’s been hanging on the fridge.

The main thing I love about this particular piece of art is that our family is all together. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen very much anymore.

And we all look happy.

We’re not holding hands, but our arms are outstretched toward each other. (One of mine actually is right in front of Atticus’ face.) We’re enjoying each other’s company.

I also notice:

• Kevin is tallest in the picture. In reality, 17-year-old Ryan is at least an inch or two taller.
• My head is biggest … but so is my smile.
• Ryan’s hair is longest. It really is by far.

At the beginning of last summer, I went through the artwork box I’ve kept for Ryan all these years, hoping to weed out some things that aren’t so keep-worthy. But it’s so hard for me.

Seeing those little hand-print turkeys and cotton-ball Santas takes me back to a time when my firstborn was my baby. I look at him now and wonder where he went. As much as I love Ryan today, I miss that little kid.

And I know that someday I’ll look back on this picture by Lucas and all the other artwork that he and four-year-old Atticus make with a smile and a catch in my throat.