It was just the wild, joyful, rib-cracking tackle of a little boy who knew with complete, unshakable certainty that he was safe, treasured and home.

“Careful, buddy, you’re going to knock your mom flat on the floor!” I laughed, wrapping my arms tight around his sturdy back.

“Oops, sorry, Mom!” he giggled loudly, pulling back with his cheeks flushed bright pink with happiness.

“You’re totally fine, honey,” I smiled, helping him straighten his baseball cap over his messy hair.

He grabbed his cap from the wooden peg and spun around toward the open front door with endless enthusiasm.

“Mom, can we please stop and get chocolate chip ice cream cones after we buy my new baseball shoes?” he asked, practically bouncing in his sneakers.