A love letter to my son

Brad age 12, 2013

Strange that I woke this morning with a thought to revive this dusty blog, sitting lonely and forgotten for much too long. What is strange is that when I logged in to create the first post in years, I noticed the date of my last post was exactly 4 years to the exact day of today. March 30, 2013 - March 30, 2017. Coincidence or a sign? I'll go with coincidence but acknowledge the goosebumps.

This morning, inspired to write a love letter to my son.

Dear Brad, 

It's not your birthday today; but who needs a birthday for mom to embarrass her kid? 

Facebook shared this photo memory from 2013 when you were 12 years old. 

Today is just an average, ordinary day on planet earth. Nothing special but my heart still skips a beat when I see your face in the morning (ok, not every morning, not those LEAVE ME ALONE mornings, LOL) because I'm still so full of awe that I get to be your mom. How did that happen? When I was pregnant and found out I was going to have a son, I was all like "A BOY? Aw, come on. I don't understand boys!" Ultimately, it took me all of 1 second to fall in love with you anyway, of course, and as the years go on, I see that God has a sense of humor and knows what he's doing even if we don't. Yet. 

We butt heads. A lot. We say harsh things to each other, we slam doors and sometimes want to run away. But....we always make it right again.  

All the standard "Mommy thinks I'm special" things apply here, of course. You are smart & funny, a talented musician and rather handsome (if I do say so myself) but it's your heart and your sprit that inspires me beyond words. You have a sense of what is most important - beyond school work and politics and financial matters. You have a natural curiosity and knowledge of connections beyond our physical selves, you have a deepness of soul and a level of empathy that is beyond your years. 

You are an artist, a creator and a dreamer. 

These things make you stand out as "different" sometimes and as a teen, that doesn't always feel like a good thing but that part is just temporary. 

I am so in love with you, so in awe of your spirit, so dedicated to guiding you toward a path that is unique to YOU that I will continue to seek alternative education options, I will continue to push you, annoy you, make you angry, piss you off, make you wish you had another mother. 

I will continue to enroll you in music lessons, ask you to sing to me and then ground you and take away your "toys" because you didn't do your homework. Or the dishes. 

I will drive to the ends of the earth to help you find your tribe, to help you find your happy place, to make connections that light you on fire. 

I believe in you. I have faith in you. I will die for you (but not for a while, ok?)

Mom

Ashes to Fire

“From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken: The crownless again shall be king.” ~ J.R.R Tolkien

I've been an absent presence in this world of blogging, and I can't say with certainty that I'll be a regular presence, but I think it's important that I try. 

I'll try, as I find that creating tangible, written words often helps to make sense of the jumble of feelings, ideas, hopes, disappointments, fears, aspirations, anxiety and good intentions that keep me awake each night.

There's been a shadow over our household. 

The genesis of this blog was in tandem with the first tentative steps onto  the narrow path of an international adoption of an older, special needs girl from Siberia.  "Zhenya". She is now 10 years old, and likely to remain in institutionalized care until she reaches age 16. She will then step out of the orphanage doors, onto the dirt roads of the remote village where a piece of my heart will always remain. I wish to return. To visit. To hold her. To assure her that her life has value, that she is important and special and good. To declare my love and offer aid in some way to her. 

Her future looks bleek. Teenage girls (especially those with special needs) in that region, ripe with poverty, are in danger of too many evils. I will not dwell on this dark shadow.  Politics, greed, pride...have all stepped in to prevent this child and millions of others from the hope of a family. 

My small business, that I have managed for 10 years is struggling to keep it's doors open. It's no comfort to know that I'm in good company with many fine family owned businesses who grapple with the decision of closing or hanging on 'just a bit longer' in these hard economic times. I still love my job, I love the customers (teens!) my staff, the message - and there is still profit - but it's a heck of a lot of stress for little reward lately!

My home, my modest little ranch in a modest town in New England is no longer a place of comfort and security. The cost is high, our income has plummeted and just before winter hit last year we discovered termites had moved in.  Despite chemical infusions, replaced wood, bombs, stakes and many prayers...those buggers persist. A recent estimate from an exterminator, along with the visible damage has caused us to reconsider the effort we put into paying our mortgage each month. We are weighing options, and the weight sometimes seems unbearable. (my mind jumps from living on our boat, moving to Africa for 2 years, to the run-of-the-mill move a few streets over)

My other company, a nonprofit organization has been making many small steps which seem to be leading someplace, finally. It's a light in the shadow of my current world, but even that does not come without distress.  As we prepare for work in Africa, a misunderstanding created an amended plan of action. A hill, not a mountain.

If I choose to hide in the shadows, what good will come? Will Zhenya benefit? Will I save my home, my business?  What of my children, my husband and the young man in Africa that I have made a promise to? 

Looking back at my life, I have noted that the most productive, rewarding, joyful times were always - without exception - preceded by shadows. I hesitate to say 'darkness' because I'm a woman who is filled with an inner light that is rarely dimmed. Despite the lack of light around me, I have always managed to hold onto my optimistic and stubborn spirit. 

Now, is no different. 

"Being Yes"

I've spent time with traumatized boys in Mexico, holding orphans in Russia, walking through poverty stricken neighborhoods in Africa, conferring wtih foster teens in the USA and each time - after having a few damn good cries, I put on my hardhat and get to work. 

I'll blog along the way. 
I don't know why. 
I don't know who will care to follow this journey of "yes" but I will say this:

I'm rallying my troops and won't take NO for an answer! 

“From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken: The crownless again shall be king.” ~ J.R.R Tolkien

Waves

I'm the type of person who intentionally walks into the eye of the storm....I stand at the shore's edge as a huge wave approaches me....it's bigger than I am, intimidating and threatens to knock me down and pull me under.
I could turn and walk away, but I don't. That would be too easy, and what would I learn? What would be accomplished by that? My life would remain the same, and that's not what I am here for.
Something inside of me feels it is right to stand my ground.
Then the wave hits, crashing over me ....scaring the bejeezus out of me! I fill with self-doubt (I'm not a strong swimmer! I'm not strong enough for this current! I can't breath! There are sharks!)
I lose my bearings, don't know which way is up - but I stand my ground - keep fighting against the unknown.

My arms and legs brush against something, and something grabs my wrist - and something else wraps around my shoulder! I reach out and discover there are other people here, and I put an arm around one of them, too.
Together we are stronger - the waves crashes around us and finally recede.  It's quiet now, and our eyes adjust and focus on each other.
The silence is broken by the sighs of relief, shouts of joy and victory, and praises of thanks and encouragement.
I am surrounded by some of the world's strongest, most dedicated and compassionate people.  We are all crying, because we are also weak and exhausted.
What we have just experienced, what we have just survived has shaken us - but not broken us. Most importantly, we have found strength in numbers. We have found each other - more crazy people to intentionally and willingly walk to the shore during a storm.
I have given birth not only to a new company, but to a new way of life. It's intense - the research - the service work I am embarking on - the connections I am making - is not for the faint at heart. I am way past my comfort zone and depending on the day (the hour) I pass from joy to fear to strength to weakness. I am now, not alone. I've found others just as crazy and committed to the same ideal. You know who you are, and I am proud to stand on the shore with you.
spark540.org

Sandcastles & War

Today I celebrate with 2 families that have brought their children home forever.  As full as my heart is for them, and their children - my heart is heavy and breaking for Z who is still in that institution waiting and wishing for a family to call her own.

It was a year ago this week that we returned from Rus$i@, having been touched by such beautiful children, and such poverty as we'd never seen before.

My eyes were open before the trip.  I saw nothing that surprised me, and I didn't learn anything that I didn't already know.  BUT, now I have experienced it.  Felt it.  Breathed it.

What is "it"?

A profound shift in my soul.  A confirmation. An affirmation of what I've always known about myself.  That THIS is the life I was meant to lead. I am to be a voice for the voiceless.  I am to speak for those who cannot yet speak for themselves.  I am to bring hope.  I am to bring their stories out of the darkness.
I am to do so much more than I ever have in my life before this.

This is NOT all about a trip to a Rus$i@n orphanage.  Oh, no.  This is about the power of "Yes".  This is about experiencing something so powerful, so painful, so unnerving - and not saying "No".

I was silent during our trip last year (for those who know me, I assure you, I WAS SILENT!).  I told my travel partner (2 adults, 2 children traveled together) that I was not sure what my role was on this journey, but that I KNEW there was something powerful at work within me.  It was extremely difficult for me to remain still, but I knew that was my job.  I knew that I needed to listen.  Absorb.  Reflect.  Watch.

The language barrier made it easier for me to be silent, but still, it was tough not to form opinions.  It was difficult to refrain from offering solutions, from giving answers to questions that weren't asked.

I'm not a patient person.  I have boundless emotional and creative energy, that demands prompt response and action in return. Knowing this, you can imagine how uncomfortable I was on that trip to Rus$i@ last year.  I KNEW something was changing, and I wanted to know right away what I was supposed to do about it!

But, I felt a nudge to be still.  And so I trusted.  We returned, and the summer passed.  Each morning, I would arise, turning my gaze upwards asking "Today? Is today the day you will make your plan clear to me"?  Each night, I lay in bed in the silence of a summer evening, cocking my ear towards the heavens, listening....remaining still and silent.

Nothing.

During the day, my mind and my heart were filled with memories of Z and V - the little girls that stayed by my side during our visits to the orphanage.  Their stories standing before me, like beautiful sandcastles - crumbling from lack of moisture - as I tried desperately to catch the granules of their sorrows in my hands, but could not.  I imagined holding their broken dreams, keeping them safe, until one day we could begin to rebuild their stories together.

2 girls.

We talked as a family, and it was agreed that we would commit to adopt one.  Only one, because the financial strain would be close to unbearable to adopt one, but impossible to bring both girls home.

We had no right to make such a decision.  We run a small business that has been hit hard in the economic crisis over the past few years.  We got caught in the middle of fraudulent bank practice when we attempted to modify our mortgage.  We were scammed by a woman posing as an attorney, who took several thousand dollars from us.  We were on our knees begging for financial mercy!  Through it all, we accrued no more debt.  We don't use credit cards - if we can't pay cash, we don't buy it.  We paid our bills, ate a lot of pasta and prayed for resolution. However....I knew.  I still know.  It was the right thing to do.  It is the right decision.  Like it or not, WE SAID YES.

V needs eye surgery.  She appears to have the same eye defect that my bio daughter had and received treatment for (2 eye surgeries).  Left untreated, V will most likely continue to lose vision in both of her eyes, slowly but surely as the years go on.  She should have surgery and glasses by now, but that is not to be.  It is unlikely that she will ever be provided corrective lenses, and almost guaranteed that she will never have the necessary surgery she requires.

Z has a life threatening illness that is treatable, and with proper medical care, she can live a full life.  Without proper treatment, she does not have a long life expectancy.  She will "age out" of the orphan care system at age 16, and likely not live to see her 21st birthday.

Through tears, prayers and anguished consideration - we chose Z.

(But I still yearn, and hold hope to one day bring V home too, I won't lie)

But something was missing.  I  began to research the adoption process, we opened a savings account, I called agencies and attorneys, we received donations and support from family, friends and strangers.

I became a zealot in pursuit of more information and knowledge about orphans around the world. I wanted to know everything there was to know about this topic, including our own parentless children here in the U.S.A.  I interviewed foster children, I met with group home directors and social workers, and one day a video came across my desk.  It stated the number of orphans world wide, and tugged at my heartstrings and drew me even deeper into the "Orphan Crisis".

It was then that my journey took a sharp turn onto a different path.  And it's not what I ever expected.  I am not one to get drawn in by "warm and fuzzy" videos or stories.  Because of this single video, I "surfed" right into the dark side.  Unknowingly, unwittingly, and oh-so-gratefully.  I'm not afraid of the dark side.  I feel empowered.  I feel strong.  I feel useful.  I feel energized.  I feel that my prayers were answered.  I had been silent, listening, and here was my answer. This is war.

I swallowed my pride and reached out to 2 brilliant, brave, influential, leaders who have rocked my world.  I am humbled that they have honored me with their attention and insight.

And then.....

BAM.  Rus$i@ closed it's doors to U.S adoptions.

That was several months ago.  It's been a nightmare.
I am just now getting word that we've got a "green light" to move forward.  That's another post.


So here I am.  A year ago I felt lost.  Today, I know exactly what I am supposed to do.

Bring Z home.
Fight for the ones I cannot bring home.
Honor those in the trenches with me.
Hold my children and their father close, and love them with all my heart.
Bring awareness and provide support to globally conscious teens at the nonprofit youth organization that I founded last fall (one way of being a voice for the voiceless).

And somewhere in there......learn to forgive.  That's another post, too.

God who?

Anyone who has known me for some time knows that I'm not necessarily a religious person....so it may seem odd that I've been bringing God up quite often lately.

Well, I'm still me. Still not into "religion".
But I AM into God.  I don't think I really have a choice in this matter, as I've been hit on the head pretty darn hard by Him.  He's got a sense of humor too, which I like (but find infuriating at times).

Here's what I believe.  I have no doubt that there is a power much, much greater than any of us - and this power is love -  and I call this greater power "God" because that's what I've been taught, and I don't feel comfortable calling Him "Fred".

I was raised a Christian, and belong to a church where my children are receiving their foundation, but I find value in almost all other faiths.

I feel that a person's faith depends on their culture and upbringing.  I happened to have been born in the U.S.A, and was raised in the Christian faith and have a bible that tells me that I am RIGHT.....but I have friends who have their own books, professing that THEY are right.
I've talked with many people of many other faiths who are committed in their beliefs - and frankly - I feel that God is pleased with any of us who choose to get to know Him better. I don't feel that any of us are RIGHT.
I think maybe we are all doing the best that we can, within the limits of our cultures and exposures, and that is enough.  If we keep seeking to know Him, then He is pleased.

God is love.  I (try to) follow the Golden Rule -which is within every religion I have encountered "Do Unto Others As You Would Have Them Do Unto You".

Search, love, serve and honor.

I won't profess to be RIGHT. I'll just say that I'm a person who strives to do better, and who wishes to learn more about God through my own and others' religions.  We'll all find the Truth when we are gone from this planet. Until then.....

LOVE.

~K

I'm back.  I needed to hit the brakes and take some time to reflect on all I have discovered since I opened this new book titled:


"I had a goal to adopt but it turned into an eyeopening education on so much injustice in this world but don't worry you will meet amazing and inspirational people along the way and you now have an opportunity to join an army of dedicated and passionate people who are fighting for those without voices".


It's a great book - I'm only in chapter 2 though.  But I'm back.  Here, on these 'pages', I will record my adoption journey as well as my life journey into the world outside my own previously sheltered existence.  


I've shed many tears over the past few months.  I put my head down and wept.  A few times, I curled into the fetal position and sobbed, asking my God WHY there was such injustice in the world.  I've  been in conversation with God and I've even shouted at him in anger.  That's ok though, because He knows my heart even better than I do, and he can take a punch now and then.  I've also learned that God has a sense of humor.  When I'm done with my temper tantrums, complete with fist shaking up at the heavens, I inevitably find myself in the middle of an epiphany, with God just standing off in the corner with a lop-sided smile on His knowing face, arms crossed as if saying "I TOLD you to trust me". 


Well, that's how I imagine it anyway.


So here I am, refreshed and renewed (more or less).  I'm a bit battle worn and shaky as I prepare to take hold of the reigns He has trusted me with.  This is gonna be some ride!