Friday, January 29, 2010

Tim's First Visit (And Now For The Rest of the Story)

I had worked all night Friday and arrived home about 7:30 in the morning. I was still too wired up to go to bed. I took something to help me sleep, checked e-mail, and puttered around for a bit; my usual routine. I really did want to try to get some sleep before Tim called to tell us he was on his way, but I’d had a bit of a brainstorm the day before while giving Tim the directions to our house. We live in a fairly isolated spot, and everyone misses the turn to our house. So, on my lunch break, I went to Wal-Mart to buy a foam poster board and some new markers. I originally left a message for my two children to start/make the “This way” sign, but I wanted to help a little with it, too. Besides, the last thing I needed was to hear them bicker over what to write, who was going to write it, what the entire thing should look like overall. So the best course of action, in my opinion, was to just cut that particular argument off at the pass. I started the poster myself.

By the time I gathered all my supplies and set up my work station in front of one of the full length windows in our entry way, it was after 9:00 and Beth had just gotten up. I had already drawn the words and outlined them different colors. Beth, naturally, asked what I was doing. I explained it to her and told her that I wanted her and her brother to help decorate it with me. We decorated the words all different colors, with eye catching doodles and drew figures and bursts of colors almost all over the poster board.

I was trying to keep track of the time. I still planned on getting a little bit of sleep, at least, perhaps an hour or so; something.

An hour later, Zach got up and asked what we were doing. This time, Beth did the explaining. After some waking up, Zach added his own flare to the poster.

Overall, it looked wonderful; cheerful, and made with a lot of love.

Shortly after Zach got up, Ron joined us. We all made the mistake of “pulling” him “in a thousand different directions” before he was fully awake (we really DO know better, but today was so special, that we sorta forgot to take into consideration). The kids were asking Ron all sorts of questions, and I requested Ron put up the poster when I suggested going to bed soon. Well, that earned a glare full of venom; he later explained that he wasn’t awake yet, and didn’t mean to shoot me such a dirty look. Not being a “morning” person myself, I easily forgave his silent anger. It wasn’t real, just Mr. Grumpy Pants in the morning. So, instead of going to bed, I loaded the kids in the van and toddled down the lane to put our poster up for Tim. After a trip back to the house to get more nails, we finally had it about as perfect as we were going to get on a slightly windy day.

Back at the house, I made note that it was just about 11:00 AM. Tim was supposed to leave home soon and call us to tell us he was on his way. Knowing it’s only about a 2 hour drive, I started to fret. Shortly after 11:00, Tim called; he was leaving Target, which was just on the outskirts of town. All he had to do was shake off the friends that had jumped on his truck. I had to laugh at that. It is gratifying to know that my first born has good friends, and can mess around just when he’s out and about town. With a, “I’ll see you soon,” to one another, we rang off and I waffled between trying to get maybe an hour’s nap or just take a shower and try to shake off the effects of the Benedryl. So, shower it was.

First, though, was some tidying up, and directing Beth and Zach around to get the house in order, or at least a bit more presentable. After grabbing a quick bite to eat, I hopped into the shower and killed about another 20 minutes. All the while, my head was spinning with the thoughts of Tim’s arrival. Throughout the morning, I kept having these compulsive thoughts of, “what if he can’t make it? What if he’s changed his mind? What’ll I do then?”

I worked hard to try to contain those thoughts, but until he called, they kept creeping into my head, unwanted, unwarranted, but insidious and pervasive nonetheless.

Time was slipping away so fast. I wanted to have everything about as perfect as it could be. I knew my house wasn’t spotless; I’m not a great housekeeper. But it was presentable and I wanted to be presentable, too. I don’t usually wear make-up. For the most part, I’m either too busy or too unconcerned about such things. But today was different. While I knew that Tim would see me during the weekend without make-up, I just couldn’t see not putting my best foot, or face so to speak, forward. So I killed some more time putting on my best face and playing around a bit with my hair.

I’d killed so much time that I was shocked and amazed when Beth brought me the phone (I had actually brought the other cordless phone in the bathroom with me, hoping to hear it over the sound of the hair dryer and radio. HA! Yeah, right!); Tim had left the directions to the hotel at home and could I give him directions? I did so happily and told him to call when he was on his way since the directions from the hotel to our house would likely land him in a traffic jam.

Just prior to this, I’d asked Ron to do all the picture taking. I’d seen enough reunion photos to know that I would treasure the first hug pictures along with all the other firsts. Ron agreed, but then said that he was going to Wal-Mart to pick up some cat food. I tried not to worry too much about him getting back in time, but since he has a habit of taking a lot longer than anticipated, I knew my concerns weren’t unfounded. So, as I was finishing up drying my hair, Tim called yet again to let us know he was at the hotel, settled in, for the most part, and ready to get the new directions. I gave them, noticed what time it was, and also noticed that Ron wasn’t back yet. Fear and worry didn’t exactly have me by the throat, but the first stages of panic were beginning to set in. What if Ron didn’t get back in time? Would the kids be able to take the pictures? Would the pictures turn out alright? OH GOD!

Calm down! I ordered myself, and figured that if push came to shove, both Beth and Zach were equipped enough to handle the picture taking. They were familiar enough with my camera that I forcibly shoved the worry away. And just as I was able to do that, Ron arrived home. RELIEF! I gave Ron the update; Tim was on his way here. So, Ron grabbed the camera while I fussed with my hair for the last time and forced myself to NOT have that one last cigarette. It wouldn’t do to smell too much like cigarette smoke when meeting my first son for the first time. But, boy! Did I want one!

(looking toward the road from our lane; it’s just over the rise)

And then Ron did something totally unexpected. He jumped BACK into the van and drove out of the drive way. He was backing up along our lane as I’m scurrying out of the house trying to figure out what the hell he’s doing. The view of our lane is obscured by some trees fronting a pond, and I didn’t see the van (which is a very bright blue and very obvious, even to a blind person) back out beyond those. Ron had stopped! Ok? I was incredibly puzzled, and so were Beth and Zach, who were hovering around me like two little busy bees. Finally, I allowed Zach to run down the driveway and look down our lane to see where Ron was. The lane being a bit “over the river and through the woods”, Zach couldn’t see the van. So, he skirted through the nursery property beyond the pond and spotted the van; just about the same time Tim drove up. Zachary charged back to the house, but neither Tim nor Ron was in sight. Well, not really; I could only just make out their movement around the vehicles. Have you ever gnashed your teeth? Like in the story, “Where the Wild Things Are”? Well, I WAS! Cause there was Ron, my devoted, loving and all too clever husband MEETING MY SON FIRST!!! Now I had to order myself to calm down again. Being my devoted and loving husband, I knew Ron’s sneaky little plan was something for me, and that in the end I would probably appreciate it, however, I couldn’t keep the thought that HE WAS MEETING MY SON FIRST out of my head. Gnash! GNASH!

(that little dark smudge on the far left portion of the road is Tim’s truck)

(He’s getting closer)

(…and closer)

(Ron must have been standing on the bumper for this one)

(Ron got to meet my son first! GNASH! But he’s a cutie, huh?)

After many agonizing moments, which in reality were probably only a few minutes, I see Ron driving back up the drive, but, to my dismay, NO TIM. GNASH!

Ron pops out of the van as I’m walking over. I must have looked like a thundercloud about to rain on someone’s parade. Ron just smiled at me and laughed, telling me, “You said you wanted me in charge of taking pictures. So, I’m taking care of pictures.” Not very mollified, Ron went about taking some pictures of the kids and I waiting.


(Still waiting…in front of the ugly pink house. Love the house, hate the pink! And LOOK, Zach even brushed his hair! It’s a miracle!)

I have to say that I’m incredibly grateful (yeah, he knew I would be! *LOL*) for the pictures. Everything that I’m feeling, all I’m thinking is really plastered on my face in these pictures, and I can’t remember a thing of it! Well, that’s not entirely true. Obviously, I was incredibly anxious, excited, mildly irritated at Ron for his over cleverness, mildly irritated at the kids for…well, just doing kid stuff. Beth and Zach’s excitement was rubbing off on me, obviously, but they were asking those typical kid questions. Beth, my little mirror, was giving voice to my frustration, asking over and over again, before Ron got back to take these pictures, “Where is he? What is he doing?” There’s only so much of that I can take on a GOOD day. Eventually, I had to ask her to stop talking (I think the implied threat of a good throttling was obvious in my tense voice). I know we were all excited, but it was pouring out of the kids in waves.

And then HE was there!

My eyes were glued onto his truck (which is really a Suburban, but who’s counting?) and the figure inside driving. Tim pulled up and got out as I started to walk across the driveway. Here was the child that I’d nurtured in my womb for over nine months, had given birth to 19 years and 2 months ago, relinquished for adoption three weeks later. Here he was in my driveway, a grown man, a young boy, looking to me so much like his father, sounding so much like him from our phone conversations. Hell! I’d even said that he sounded exactly like Mark in the first few minutes of our first phone call. I was so blown away! Blown away by the first phone call, and his voice, now seeing this PERSON that was a part of me and a boy I once loved. The reality of SEEING TIM shook me, and shifted something inside of me that I’d forgotten was lodged there, had been lodged there from the first moment I suspected I was pregnant. (Which, dear reader, was the very day he was conceived. I had a VERY regular period, and Mark’s 21st birthday was on my day 15! Oh BOY! What a birthday present, huh?)

I think what shifted was the dam that I’d built up to keep all the love I’d had for that child blocked up, locked away so that I could continue my life without the crushing grief I experienced that first year of his life, that oh so important first year of a baby’s life that I could never be a part of. Occasionally, usually on Tim’s birthday, a small crack would appear in that dam and I would cry torrents, needing to allow that grief and love come out of me for just a little bit. Like all dams, the gates need to be let down every once in a while so that the structure isn’t overwhelmed by the titanic pressure behind them.

And then I was hugging my child for the first time, again, in over 19 years.

(With a kitty, Smokey, in the background, as my kids later pointed out. And something that Tim told me later; that black ‘wrist band’ he’s wearing was something that his football team wore in honor in memory of his mother. So, we were both there hugging our son!)

My son’s strong arms around me, holding me close for the first time is something I will never forget and love my darling husband Ron for so much for capturing. I’m tearing up right now, relating it. And realize that I haven’t allowed myself those tears yet. Perhaps later.

What followed after, the words, don’t come to mind. Perhaps my children or Ron or even Tim, will remember, but I don’t. I was too lost in looking at HIM; too lost in seeing myself and Mark in this wonderful, spectacular, miraculous person standing before me.


(My eldest meet)

Tim had asked me a few days prior what things Beth was interested in. He’d already gotten a bead on Zach (heck, he was once a 10 year old boy too!), so had an idea of what to get Zachary, but 13 year old girls are a mystery to him. Since Beth isn’t a mystery (well, not too much) to her mother, I was able to give Tim some solid ideas for a small gift.

(God only knows how Ron managed to get a picture of Beth with all her hair up like in a cartoon, but I think it’s an awesome and funny picture. Somehow, very appropriate. The beanie baby frog’s name is Smooches. Tim managed to get two of Beth’s loves in one gift; frogs and stuffed animals.)

(Mr. Smooches)

At one point, Ron came over to me and I hugged him and as we watched Tim and Beth and Zach talking, I told him that I felt like I was in a dream. I pinched myself and then I pinched him. Yep, we were awake! It was real. A part of me still has to pinch myself; I’m afraid that I’ll wake up in June and this is just some chocolate induced coma.

We moved into the house, talking, chatting, nothing really in depth, but breaking the ice. After only a few minutes into the house, though, I finally broke down and said, “I’m going out for a smoke! I’ve been good enough and I need a bit of a stress reliever”. Fortunately, no condemnation, but concern about the smoking. Tim said something about how he’s not going to start, but for some reason, his brother smokes. I told him I’m glad he’s not going to start. I KNOW (I AM a nurse) it’s a bad habit, but I enjoy smoking. We talked more outside. We talked all weekend, really. I think I’ll never stop talking to him. I have 19 years to catch up on. And while I understand, I know that I can’t “catch up”, that doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop trying.

Soon, my rchildren were bugging about being hungry. And even though I know eating was important, I could have gone for a very long time without it at that point. However, we packed up into the van and drove to one of our favorite, local Mexican restaurants. We spent a couple of hours there, though with Zach getting more and more edgy. He was supposed to go to a birthday party at 5:00. We didn’t get home until about 5:30. Zach then quickly packed up and Ron dropped my youngest son off at sleepover birthday party. The one thing I asked Ron was to take Beth with him. I knew they wouldn’t be gone long, but I wanted a chance to be alone with Tim, for a little while at least. Earlier, Beth had pointed out to Tim the photo album that I’ve kept of him from when he was born. Actually, there’s my ultrasound picture of him in there, too, so I guess you could say from before he was born! So, not one to lollygag or beat around the bush, Tim reaches for the photo album and we sit down on the couch to go through our pictures. I had to prepare Tim a little before opening the cover. I let him know that a document with his “first name” was in there. He nodded and proceeded with opening the picture book.

I took him on a tour, so to speak, of the photo album; explained the individual items and pictures. He liked his “first name” Andrew Morgan (for clarification/privacy I’m leaving out Mark’s last name; however, I DID give my son his father’s last name. We might not have been married, but I know who the father of my child was and I did love him. The least I could do is honor Mark with giving our son his name. And I did tell Tim that he was conceived in love. Tim was very pleased with that). I told him that a friend of mine once said to me that if I’d named my son Andrew, he would forever be known as “Andy”. As I don’t like the name Andy much, I told my friend that he would have been known as Drew. Tim was blown away by most of the pictures. Obviously the ones that I have, he’d never seen before. And some of the ones that Carol and John sent to me he’d never seen before, either. He gave me a bit of a tour himself, thought his life with the pictures. He told me about this and that, and filled me in on some of his childhood. It was a joy to hear, my heart was so full of abundance just having him sit next to me, relaying these experiences, connecting them to images I’d looked at thousands of times.

Eventually, sooner than I wanted, Beth and Ron arrived back at home. So much of that evening is a blur. Again, there was lots of talking, lots of goofing around.

(And now Tim gets the benefits of being the big brother!)

Beth was the first to mention that she was getting hungry again. I looked at the clock and noticed that it was nearly 9:00 Beth suggested ice cream and I suggested the Leatherby's Ice Cream Parlor and so, we were off to Leatherby’s. All through the day, Tim and I went back and forth about our likes and dislikes, comparing, contrasting. And through out the day, I was continually amazed at how much he is LIKE me. I didn’t think such things could be genetic! How could a preference for a certain dessert be genetic? But it seems to be. We were all looking through the menu, and then ordered. With a small twist, Tim and I ordered the exact same thing, without even being aware of what the other was going to order!

And that’s not all that we have in common; modes of thought, lines of thinking, senses of humor! Being adopted, I’d never had anyone around me growing up who thought like me. And after I had my rchildren, I just figured they thought like me because I AM raising them. And then I met Tim! Now I look at my rchildren and realize that perhaps the smart mouth my daughter spouts off with occasionally IS genetic, or the way my youngest son’s words tumble over each other as his mouth tries to keep up with his brain IS genetic! I know that Beth is a normal 13 year old girl, so the smart mouth is normal. I know that Zach is a smart young man, so his words coming out one on top of the other is normal. I know that I am comparing and contrasting Tim and Beth and Zach. Perhaps that’s not fair to any of them, and perhaps when I’m around Tim more, I’ll stop doing it so much, but I in awe and amazed at these individual people that came from my body. And I know that most humans have this ability, to give life, and that perhaps there’s nothing quite that special about it, but I can’t believe that these children belong to ME. And, as Ron likes to say, not even God can change the fact that I am their mother. These three people amaze me, fill my heart, and make my life a joy worth living in a way that I can’t describe adequately. I can die happy now. I have so much more living to do, I understand that, but if I were to die tomorrow, I would be happy.

We arrived back at home sometime after 10:30. Beth got her pajamas on and we let her stay up til 11:00. This isn’t unusual in our household, the late nights, but considering all the excitement and nerves, I wanted her to get a bit more sleep than usual. She was seriously bent out of shape at having to go to bed “so soon”, but is wise enough not to argue too much.

I’m sure I must have been beaming when Beth gave Tim her first good night kiss. I went in and said prayers with my daughter, and gave her my good night kisses.

The rest of the night was spent in a bit more adult conversation, but nothing deep. Before Tim left for the night, I told him that I wanted to take some time either tomorrow or Monday and just spend time alone with him. He whole heartedly agreed, almost as eager as I was for that time to connect.

(This one’s titled, “Go away Mom, I’m trying to sleep!” taken at 2:00 AM. Notice Mr. Smooches? )

Ron and I spent another hour unwinding from the momentous day. I’d been up for 32 ½ hours by the time I went to bed! I was supposed to work that night, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, let alone concentrate on work, so I called in with a little fib. (For some reason, the nursing profession frowns on “personal” days. *shrugs*). As it was, I didn’t get a lot of sleep either. I think I was awake by 9:00 though had been woken up off and on by spring crazed cats! I lounged around in bed til nearly 11:00, sending Ron off to pick up Zachary from the sleep over. The night before we’d told Tim that he could walk right in, that he was welcome to our home anytime, and didn’t need to knock. He was feeling a big sheepish about this, and I can understand, but that’s how we were feeling and we wanted him to know that. I was in lying in bed with Beth sitting next to me and we were just having a nice mother/daughter talk when suddenly I saw Tim standing in the doorway to my bedroom, looking distinctly embarrassed. He said he’d run into Ron on the way in; Ron apparently gave him the idea that we were up and about. So, Tim HAD knocked, but when no one answered, he let himself in.

I let him know that we’d be out, sent Beth on her way, grabbed a robe and joined him in the living room, chuckling to myself the whole way. After waking up a bit more, though trying to plan on some more sleep before work that night, Ron and Zach got home. The day was spent playing around, me taking pictures, the kids playing football, just a lot of goofing around. There were huge protests of hunger around noon by my daughter. Tim agreed that he was hungry too. So mom got to go into the kitchen and get creative.

(Hangin’ out in the front yard)

(No really! This is how the ball’s punted!)

A couple hours later, and some interesting mistakes in the kitchen, I had a rather late brunch served. Scrambled eggs, homemade waffles and bacon for most of the family, a BLT for me and we were all seated around the dinning room table for the first meal I’d made for my entire family. I was in heaven, bliss, nirvana. I saw a birth mother write recently that she felt the need and joy of cooking for her child she was in reunion with; I was thinking of that the entire time I was making brunch and really understanding what she meant. I’m not the “home maker” I used to be; I don’t do the working mom routine well, but I do enjoy getting in the kitchen still and cooking for my family. When I was able to do that for my first son for the first time…well, there aren’t enough words to describe that sort of uniquely female joy.

After much coercion, and a bit of encouragement from their brother, my rchildren finally assented to doing a little bit of kitchen clean up. After, I jumped on the computer for a few minutes and left my sons to play Yu-Gi-Oh. Really, Tim was great with Zach. He didn’t have to play a game that he’d put away some years ago as a childhood pastime, but he sat down with Zach, exchanging your typical male banter (“I’m gonna wipe the floor with your butt”, that sorta thing) while Bethany looked on. There was talk about going to the mall; Tim was unable to get a gift for Zach, and wanted to take him out so that Zach could help him choose. I so wanted to go with them, but it was past 3:00 by this time and I desperately needed to get some sleep if I was going to function for work.

Soon, the game was finished (Zach won, with a promise of a rematch and a butt whoopin’ from Tim) and the 4 loves of my life were heading towards the door to do their shopping and I was tucking myself in bed for a few more hours of sleep.

I awoke to a rather quiet house. Strange since it was getting late and usually there’s a bit more noise and sound greeting me when I wake up. I stumbled into the kitchen to find Ron cooking dinner, with Tim and Beth exchanging jokes with Ron; all very quiet, even the laughter was muffled, all in respect for my sleep. My heart melted a little bit more. Zach, I found out, was happily enjoying his new Gameboy game that his big brother got him in his room. I started my routine of getting ready for work, scrambling around for something clean to wear and the necessary items needed for a quick night working.

All too soon I was at work, but with a big smile on my face that I couldn’t hide or would want to even if I could. That night passed quickly. I was happy with the thoughts that my first son could fit so comfortably in my home with my rchildren and husband. They had spent a great deal of time together without me there (which, I’ll admit, wounded me a tad. Not begrudging my family spending time alone without me, but just that I had to miss time with them. Necessary, I know, but a bit of a sting nonetheless).

And then the day I was waiting for finally arrived! Tim and I were going to spend a day together without anyone else to worry about. Telling my rchildren wasn’t exactly the easiest since they obviously wanted to spend time with us as well, but in the end they understood the need both Tim and I felt to be alone together. Again, it was a day that I didn’t get any sleep, and so needed vast amounts of caffeine to keep me sustained. Pepsi to the rescue! We went out to lunch (again, ordering nearly the identical items from the menu without consulting about it). After, I took Tim to a park that I frequently take the kids to. It’s one of my favorites; an older park with huge shade trees, keeping the play areas nice and cool in the summer. It’s been refurbished since I’d grown up, and the play equipment was dotted with all sorts of children of all ages. The basketball courts and tennis courts were filled with players and Tim and I walked, strolled, sat, and talked for hours. We talked of mundane things, we talked of intimate things, we talked of his birth and my pregnancy with him, and we talked of religion and politics. He gave me his first spontaneous hug and I love you there during a walk.

Something I’d realized during the days preceding his arrival is that reunion is something akin to a love affair. Take away the hormones and you find the anticipation, anxiety, the excitement, the joy and fear are all the same. I shared this with Tim, and while he was baffled by the idea at first, he gave it some serious thought and quickly agreed with me. Another thing that Tim gave me, not even realizing it, was being able to fall in love with again my children. To revel in the love affair that parents have with their children. He was able to help me look into myself and renew that wonderful sense of awe and amazement we have for our children when they’re first born. I felt as if I could see my younger children through new eyes again, perhaps sharing in the newness Tim saw them in.

It was nearly 6:30 when we arrived back at home. Ron was beginning to fix dinner and Beth and Zach pounced us for the love and attention that we so heartlessly withheld from them earlier. ;)

(Watching Clue)

We settled into the evening routine, eventually scooting the kids off to bed with hugs and kisses all around and prayers once tucked into bed. And again, Tim stayed until about 1:00 in the morning. I drug myself off to bed, having spent another nearly 30 hour day busy with my family. My body and brain were beginning to feel the effects of lack of sleep, buy my heart was soaring! Tim had suggested the day before going ice skating; taking the kids and making a day of it before he headed back home. And yet again, I was floored by another similarity between my first son and myself. I’ve loved to ice skate ever since I was a child. I’d even had the Dorothy Hamil hair cut as a child. Didn’t exactly look good on my since my hair is naturally curly, and Dorothy’s isn’t! But Tim had learned to ice skate in winter camp and since his home town didn’t have an ice rink, he was eager to get some blades on and have some fun.

So, keeping it a surprise for the kids, I looked up the info on line, and printed up the information we needed. Ron had a break between work and we all went out to lunch one last time together that long weekend. This time it was Moroccan food. Very similar to Greek and Greek is one of my favorite types of food. By this time, Tim had realized that we have a very similar taste in food, and deliberately ordered the same thing I did.

Soon, Ron had to get back to work, and Tim wanted to get to the skating rink so he could leave at a descent time. Very quickly we were booted up and skating. I teased Tim that one of the young ladies that came over to help us with our skates was flirting with him. I forgot how much fun it is to make a 19 year old boy blush! Of course, there was more talking, goofing around, playing, picking Beth and Zach up off of the ice, just having a plain ole good time. I’m not a huge fan of Country music, but I am familiar with the music that crosses over or is popular enough to catch the top 40 eye. When Lone Star’s Amazed came on, I just got shivers! I know it’s a love song, but there are enough lyrics that can apply to my children that I had to keep the tears from pouring down my face. I really AM amazed by my first son. I can’t say that he can do no wrong, I don’t have blinders on, but I am fully enjoying the honeymoon phase right now. I figure after 19 years, I’m entitled to a bit of glowing.

And all too soon, we were back home, Tim dropping us off and saying our good-byes so he could hit the road and head home himself. There were no tears, no sadness in our farewells. We’d already made plans for Tim to come back up in two weeks for Zachary’s birthday. And from the success of the long weekend, I knew that Tim would be in our lives to stay. So much was said, so much was done; and there’s still so much left. As I said, I know there is no “making up for lost time”, it’s not possible, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t pack in as much love and laughter in as possible. That’s what life’s all about, isn’t it? Life isn’t misery, life is love. I told Tim that he was a testament to his parents and his upbringing. I told him that I wanted him to have a life that at that time in my life I couldn’t give him and it seems as if that’s what’s happened. He’s a wonderful, funny, intelligent, handsome young man who has a life ahead of him that is full of possibility. I don’t know if I would have been able to give him that; I wanted to, but no matter how much I wanted to keep him, and I told him that I wanted to keep him very badly; it wouldn’t have been fair to him. I can’t begrudge the good life he’s had. To me, while my own adoption was the success story birth mothers were lied to about, I think his was. No, his wasn’t a perfect life. There’s no such thing. But it has been a good life, a blessed life, a life I wouldn’t have been able to give him unless circumstances were radically different for me. And now I’m blessed to have him back in my life.

One last side note; I entitled this document, “And now for the rest of the story” in homage to Paul Harvey and his daily radio article. Something I realized is that the rest of our lives IS the rest of the story and it’s still being written. So much more has happened since this magical weekend and it’s all been wonderful. Tim spontaneously asked to join us for Easter. I was able to make him an Easter basket and he did Easter egg hunting with his brother and sister. He didn’t have to do it. He’s obviously beyond an age to even want to do it, but he did anyway. I know that some of the reasons he did it were for his younger brother and sister, but I’m sure there were personal reasons too. I didn’t ask. I just took pictures and enjoyed watching something I never imagined I’d ever see. We’re constantly living the rest of our story and I while I can’t wait for the future, I’m reveling in the present and living for today!

No comments:

Post a Comment