Jumbled Feelings

Trumpet playing exclamation mark daughter really loved all her sessions with a psychologist.  She has internalized many of the ideas shared with her to help her cope with the challenges she faces.  Like everything she does, she takes all that she has learned one step further!  Yesterday she found a huge unused white board and set up a feelings chart, colour coded and labelled for the entire week ahead.  Today was a multicolour day of jumbled feelings.  I am not at all surprised.

Celebration days are not easy for many children.  Gotcha days also bring up sadness and feelings for the birth and foster families, previous adopted families and other foster siblings left.  For our daughter too, last year we planned a funeral service for her mom on the day before her Gotcha day.  Her mom died several years ago under tragic circumstances, but our daughter had never had a chance to formally remember her mom in a service, so we had a lovely family service.  She wrote notes on helium balloons to send to heaven.  She burned a card where she had written a longer letter to her mom.  We read a passage from the Bible that had been given to our daughter by her birth grandma.  We prayed. We ate an ice cream cake inscribed with "I love you, MOM" on it.

I had forgotten that we had linked the memorial service and the Gotcha Day so close together last year.  I guess the thought was to acknowledge the unfinished grieving before the Gotcha Day joy.  Our daughter did not forget.  Added to this was the death of her friend's dad last week.  We took pizza and helium balloons to the friend yesterday too.  Our daughter was well aware of the close link with her own grief and that of her friend.  We saved one balloon for our daughter and she used a sharpie to write a note to her own mom too.

Even though our exclamation mark girl appears confident in so many situations, underneath it all, like so many of us, she struggles.  She does not like to be singled out for attention.  She always has a hard time with birthdays too.  We discovered the hard way that big birthday parties are not the way to go for her.

Grieving is never something that we complete fully. It  is an ongoing process like so many things in life.  Jumbled feelings are to be expected too.  Our daughter is always comforted that we do not expect her to have unencumbered joy in all the celebrations of life.  Life is so much more complicated than that.  There is relief in knowing that is alright.  I want to allow our kids be comfortable with the wide range of feelings that celebrations can bring.

Happy Gotcha Day!

Our emphatic exclamation mark on the end of our family sentence has been with us for two years now.  With a trumpet blast we celebrate our darling daughter!  "We love you and treasure you! Happy Gotcha Day!"

It was quite a journey to adopt our precious youngest daughter.  Even the day before she was to formally move in we were told all the papers were not signed and we would have to wait.  She had already said goodbye to her previous school and the new school was waiting.  She was all moved in.  From her perspective she had already waited more than two years to be reunited with her foster sisters and our family who she had chosen in her heart all those years ago.   I told the authorities that they could put me in jail. My husband told them that he was on his way to the newspaper to tell our story.  The papers got signed.

Sometimes adoption is not straightforward.  The hearts of our children are as complicated as ours.  We hear stories of adoptive parents knowing in their hearts that certain children belong to them.  We seldom hear stories of the children choosing.  We often do not take into consideration the incredibly strong sibling bonds that are often forged in foster care.  Against all odds with some significant cultural roadblocks, our daughter ended up where her heart was calling.  It was not without pain, suffering and perseverance for many along the way, including her social workers!

She certainly is a most wonderful treasure and gem in our family.  Eager and active.  Full of life and ideas, both great and sometimes not so great.  She is a moving ship on the sea of life.  I love that about her even when it gets her into trouble.

We celebrate you today darling.  We are incredibly thankful for you.

We will have corn pops for breakfast, canned mini ravioli for lunch, and KFC for dinner just as you requested.  Today is our day of celebration.  Congratulations and thanks to all!

Sweet Billions

Here it is almost the end of October and we are still eating little tomatoes by the handful.  Four big plants have produced what seems like billions of these tasty delights.  I am thinking of writing to the seed company to change the name from Sweet Millions to Sweet Billions.  In early May it looked like there would be no tomatoes.  Gardener husband replanted tomato plants four times.  It was cold and wet and we sure needed persistence.  We were discouraged.  We almost scrapped the idea of a garden altogether.  Now here we are, constantly astonished by the fruitfulness of these vines that are pulled up under the eves at the front of the house, a green veil in front of our eating area windows, stretching from the ground seven feet up to the roof.  This year even the usual fall blight has not descended to ruin the crop, but certainly early on we thought there would be no fruit.

As I look out through the green screen of plants with surprise orange and red delights, I am reminded that the early beginnings may not be indicators of later fruitfulness.   Keep being persistent.  Push through those really hard times.  Keep on watering and enriching the soil as best as you can.  Pull the plants up close to the house with a bit of protection.   Surprisingly, sometimes the fruit will still come a little late.  Each day as I smell the tomatoey freshness and pick yet another batch of firm tasty fruit, I am encouraged.  In my own kids I am watching out for those unique fruits that each produce, praying for a receptive heart to recognize their growth.  A moment of kindness.  A smile that lights the room.  A lovely picture drawn.  Fruits of persistence emerging.

Inspiring in Life and Death

Yesterday my three youngest daughters and I went to the memorial service of a man that I have never met.  He was the Dad of one of the girls' friends.    He had been very sick for many years and it has been a long road for him and for his wife and daughter who have stood with him all the way.  I was not expecting the depth of inspiration that we would all come away with from this tragic and sad loss.  I feel like I made a new friend through his death.
Each of my daughters have also lost a parent through death and have not had the opportunity to fully grieve those losses.  We all had little bits of our own grieving helped along as we joined in the grieving and remembering of this ordinary but extraordinary man that we have never met.  We listened  to wonderful stories.  We laughed.  We cried.
He lived and died well.  His motto was to "Live while you are alive."
I came away feeling thankful for all the little things that do make up our lives.  Those funny eccentricities that we all have.  The smiles.  The tears.  The moments of ordinary.
His was not an ordinary life.  His death was dreadfully premature.  He suffered much more than most.  He lived the life he was given as fully as he could.  He loved his family and God.  Enough.  More than enough.
Thank you  for sharing your life and your death yesterday.  Now may the rest of us get up and live the life we have been given the best we can.

The Volleyball Game

My three youngest daughters are on a volleyball team at their school.  They call them the power girls.  They are full of  energy and determination.  They hit that ball hard.  Not always in the right direction or with measured force, but with power.  I was sure one of my girl's hits was going to go right through the roof yesterday.  Just as well they are at a small school where the boys and girls have to combine forces to make a team for the boy's league.

One of the girls is particularly eager both on the volleyball court and in life.  Someone told her they would have to do push ups if they did not go for the ball, so go for the ball she does.  She plays the game like she is the only person on the court, running from corner to corner, banging into everyone in her way.  Of course the ball never gets over the net and the other team members are frustrated, but my daughter does not notice.  At least she goes for the ball and hopes she will not have to do push ups.

Actually, eager daughter reminds me of myself.  I do not get the fact that I have my own special corner of the court to play in.  I always feel that I have to be involved all over the court of life.  I inadvertently push others aside in an attempt to be sure that I play the ball and can be the centre of the action.  Somehow I cannot trust that if I take care of my own area then that will help the whole team play together effectively.  I feel guilty and ineffective if I am not running wildly all over.  I always feel like I can never do quite enough.

I want to learn to settle down and be content in my own corner.  Sometimes the boundary lines of involvement are not clear.  I am never quite sure where those lines are.  I am trying to more effectively listen to my own heart and God's still voice there.  I am seeking out coaches who I respect to give me perspective and insight.  I am trying to be more sensitive to the feelings of those around me.  I have powerful eagerness too.  Now I just need to work on refining how I play this game called life.

Miracles Tucked Away

Carefully treasured in the heart of October is a very special day for me.  It is the shared birthday of two of my daughters, born many years apart but joined forever in the unique gift of their amazing hearts and lives that bless our family deeply.  I marvel at the similarity of their loving and sensitive hearts and their bright, organized and caring ways. They have so tenderly and thoughtfully been such special daughters and  older sisters to so many.  The day of their birth shared is a miracle of God's faithful care and love for me.  It is a constant reminder of His love.

I married well into my thirties and thought that marriage to my husband would mean that I would never have children.  I was hopeful that we could share the joy of the children from his first marriage, grown by the time we married.  I entered those relationships gently, without expectation and full of concerns about all the negative fables of step relationships.  Over many years now I am still constantly surprised and blessed by the way that both those children have deeply adopted me and given me a place in their hearts.  Our oldest daughter has been incredibly generous in her outpouring of love for me beyond any of my expectations.  It was no accident that our next daughter was born on her birthday.  What an amazing gift as our miracle child was born on our oldest daughter's special day.  Somehow it sealed deeply our love and relationship, giving deep hope and encouragement for the new beginnings of birth coming from struggle and pain and disconnection.  Connection and love forever bound and tucked away in October.  Happy birthday to my two oldest daughters who bring such wonder and joy to my life.  God bless you deeply and richly.

ReConnection!

Whew!  We are reconnected.  Our modem  at home broke after ten reliable years.  Its faithful service was certainly a connection that I took for granted until it was gone.  I was not sure for a few days what was causing the problem.  I even priced new computers.  Finally I called the server and the technician immediately pinpointed the modem as the culprit.   We waited for several days for  a new one to be delivered.     I am astonished at how disconnected we were without this one important piece of technology.  So much of our communication  with the far-flung children is through the computer.  Even parent teacher interviews can only be set up on line.

Reconnection.  A great feeling all round.  If only all our connections were always as magically simple as the WiFi.  We all have so many levels of connection that can so easy be broken.  Sometimes these breaks are forever.  Other times just for a season.  Our community is reeling this week as another of our teens committed suicide.  Connections tragically severed. Families bonds so often broken.  Divorces.  Kids removed from homes.  Kids leaving homes.  Brokenness, pain and disconnection are part of our human reality.

  Reconnection may not be possible, but there are always opportunities to grow and learn from even the most tragic pain of bonds broken.  There have been many times that I have not known where to start to make connections.  Often prayer is my first and last hope.  Sometimes I have to let go of one hope for connection in order to find fullness in another.  Sometimes there are other things I can do. Letters written and burned with ashes and heart sent to heaven.  Apologies made.  Special times together arranged.  Tiny steps toward healing started.  I need to ground myself.  Connect with myself and with God.  Listen within for the still small voice among the clanging cacophony of pain.  Sometimes the connections we hope for may not happen. May we all be open to hope for new and surprising connection and growth in other ways.  To somehow reconnect in both the death and life of brokenness and hope.