My Favorite

"Grief makes one so terribly tired." ~The Dowager Countess, Downton Abbey

I am always quick to tell my clients that there is a huge difference between grieving and when someone dies.

Because of my job, I can listen to people talk all day long about death and the horrible circumstances surrounding some deaths.

But grief...oh, grief is different.  Grief, even when you see it coming, is all encompassing.  It takes your breath.  Grief makes you cry for 36 hours, even when you're sleeping.  It steals your appetite and makes you ravenous, all at the same time.  It starts the slideshow of memories and sets it on repeat.  Grief, even when you're at peace with it, is fierce and does not leave quickly.    

My grandma died.  My favorite person in this world...gone. 

Somehow, in this sea of grief, there is peace with her death.  Alzheimer's is an ugly disease, and I always said that it would be a fascinating disease if it weren't happening to the one person that I loved the most in this world.  The grief comes from a place of remembering who she used to be and being sad that person doesn't exist anymore.  And didn't outwardly exist for a long time. 

My cousin asked me what my favorite memory of Grandma Ruth was.  And I couldn't pick just one. 

There are so many...

 

I used to dream about her a lot.  I read somewhere that it was a "psychological fact" that if you were dreaming about someone, then they were dreaming about you.  I'm pretty sure that this is not a fact, and was indeed an idea invented by 14-year-old girls.  And, while I have a million reasons to hope this is not true, I always hoped that it was with her.  I was hopeful that, somewhere, over time and space and this ugly disease, we were able to connect somehow. 

My grandma remarried when I was three.  And, honestly, my grandpa is the real hero of this love story.  My grandma had been a widow for 6 years, and I think the other grandkids had gotten used to having Grandma all to their own.  Being the youngest, I don't really remember Grandma before she got married again.  My grandma had always said she didn't want to marry a farmer or a truck driver, but she ended up marrying both.  My grandpa was really her knight in shining armor, and I'm so grateful that she got a chance at love like that.  He would visit her in the nursing home, every single day.  That's commitment--doing the same thing over and over, despite the total lack of feedback.  No matter how hard it is.  No matter how heartbreaking it is.  I remember, when I was little, my grandpa saying that he'd promised Grandma that they'd be married for 50 years, even if they had to finish up some of those in Heaven.  Now, I know that most Christian theology says that there aren't married relationships in Heaven, but I think there might be exceptions for devoted old men. 

About a year ago, my aunt sent me a package of old letters that I had sent my grandma over the years.  I always get compliments on my handwriting, which I attribute to the years and years of letter-writing that occurred between me and Grandma over the years.  But in this package, there were also all of the things that my grandma had clipped out of the local newspaper over the years.  Some of them were significant...like scholarships I had won or times my picture was in the paper.  But what stopped me was the tiny cut-out of the time I made the honor roll in the sixth grade.  I was a great student--I always made the honor roll.  And she always cut it out.  And she always put it on her refrigerator, like it was such a big deal.  There are few times in this world when you get a cheerleader like that. 

And then there's the rock.  When I was little, my grandma redid one of their rooms with a peach color.  I found a rock in the field behind our house that was a light peach color and just KNEW that my grandma had to have it to match her new room.  So we washed it and varnished it, and I gave it to her.  And you would have thought that I gave her a million dollars.  And that rock sat in her living room, on the floor by the TV, until I was almost finished with college and they moved.  That's a good grandma right there--to act excited about and then display a varnished ROCK for 15 years. 

My aunt also shared with me this picture that I drew of my grandma.  I'm not sure how old I was...obviously, not old enough to spell "Grandma" correctly.  Adam's questions were things like, "Did she wear a lot of turtlenecks?"  (no) and "Did she wear a lot of make-up?" (yes, when I was little).  Again, it makes my heart ache with love that she saved these all these years...to know that I was so treasured that she saved my little kid drawings of her. 

So here's to 87 years of life--two husbands, three kids, seven grandkids, twelve great-grandkids (three of whom are named after her), and three great-great-grandkids. 

And a legacy of love.

2 Years, 2 months, and 2 days

Right now, I am overflowing with thoughts and feelings and information about adoption.

There has been so much about adoption in the news and in our little world that I feel like I am just saturated with it.  Confused by it.  Saddened by it.  I feel like I'm carrying around this weight that is causing me to become (is it possible?!) even more passionate about adoption.

Adam and I made the decision to adopt in October 2010.  I have been seriously praying for "our family, whatever form that may take on" every single day since Thanksgiving of that year.  Those exact words.  Every single day.  794 times.  (As a little fun fact, I've been praying this prayer for 2 years, 2 months, and 2 days...weird, huh?)

I heard the words, "Our willingness to wait reveals the value we place on the object we are waiting for" on the radio the other day.  While we aren't waiting on an object, I think the premise is still the same.  Adoption is something so valuable to us that we are willing to wait.  And wait.  And wait.  For as long as we need to in order to make it happen.

So, part of my passion involves educating other people about adoption and the need for orphan care.

The statistics surrounding the exact number of orphans in the world are a little fuzzy.  Every agency that reports on these sorts of things has their own different criteria for figuring this data.  Some agencies don't count abandoned children or children who are sold/trafficked.  UNICEF's recent reports put the number at somewhere between 143 and 210 MILLION CHILDREN worldwide. 

Let me help to break this down for you (keeping in mind that these estimates are probably way low based on an inability to collect proper data)...

-Every day, 5,760 children become orphans (every. single. day.)

-Every year, over 14 million children "age out" of the system.  Aging out is the process of being "old enough" to no longer qualify for adoption or even for institutional care.  In the US, this age is 18.  In other countries, it's as low as 9.  I'll give you a minute to think of any 9-year-old that you've ever met and imagine that he or she "no longer qualifies" for a family. 

-Every 15 seconds, a child in Africa becomes an orphan due to AIDS. 

-Older orphans who "age out" are at an increased risk for abuse of various kinds, prostitution, suicide, slavery, becoming child soldiers, and exposure to AIDS and other diseases.

So, here's my commentary on all of that: 

1.  I. do. not. care. if there are 143 orphans or if there are 210 million or if there are 5 orphans.  All kids belong in families.  Period.

2.  I know that people get really upset about international adoption.  UNICEF actually doesn't endorse international adoption because they would prefer that orphans stay in their home country and be cared for by family in order to further reduce unnecessary trauma and loss.  I wholeheartedly agree.  But if we are not gonna support international adoption than we all need to STEP IT UP in regard to world missions to provide a support net for countries to be able to take care of their children and families.

3.  I'm sure my last point probably led some people to be like, "Well, we need to be taking care of the kids and families in our own country!"  Absolutely.  (I'm starting to think that perhaps we need to STEP IT UP in regard to domestic missions too...)  Adam and I are led to international adoption because we feel that the US has a minimum standard of care for orphans, and other countries simply do not.  Half of the world population lives on roughly $2.50 a day. (This could lead me into a whole different conversation about how the poorest Americans are still far wealthier than most of the world)  I would certainly hope that we are not so short-sighted in our American privilege that we value an American kid over a kid from a different country.  (Go back and review my first point.)

4.  I sit here, typing away, in the safety of my warm apartment, and I cry.  I cry because I'm just as guilty as everyone else for turning a blind eye to world problems that are larger than my little world.  I cry for my future children who, at one point, could have easily become a horrifying statistic.  I cry because I don't think Adam will go for bringing home 210 million orphans (though, I don't know...he's surprised me before...).  I cry because I see such a division between mommas in our world.  There are times that I just want to scream and shake people and be like, "Don't you get it!  Children are dying!  Children are alone!"  (Don't even get me started on people who equate pet adoption with human adoption!)  And I have to remind myself that this is our journey, and I can't expect everyone to "get it" or to join us or to start a journey of their own. 

5.  But, boy, if someone else did start a journey of their own...that might be one less orphan. 

 And I'd be good with that. 

Adam + Backpack + Lacey + Wine = Forever

This is a big week for us. 

We've been together for 7 years.

I met Adam when I was 22.  At the time, I felt so old. 

Everyone I knew at the time met their soul mate and got married right after high school.  I had just finished college and there was no Prince Charming on the horizon. 

And when you least expect it...

That's when it happens.

Adam and I had our first real date at a Halloween party on October 30. 

If I could go back to this date, 7 years ago, and give myself some advice, it would include the following:

1.  A backpack full of wine is not a dare.

2.  Do not hit on people wearing house arrest bracelets to make Adam jealous.

 

3.  There are parts of this night that you will want to remember with striking, minute by minute, full detail including every sense clarity.

4.  This is the day that will change your life.

5.  The love of your life will show up wearing a t-shirt with two unicorns...uhmm.....doing it. 

6.  A bottle of absinthe (that Adam bought online from the Czech Republic) that gets spilt will make the trunk smell like licorice for years.  Years.

7.  A quote from Ace Ventura: Pet Detective will be a part of your first kiss. 

8.  By all accounts, this is not a date that should lead to true love.  Or even a second date. 

9.  There are some situations in life where serendipitous fate and destiny just take control.  This is one of them.

10.  If the future love of your life tries to kiss you on the forehead.  Let him.  Especially if you just threw up.

11.  He should not call you the next day.  But he will.  And he will call you every day forever.

12.  It's okay that neither of you wore a costume.  You will always do your own thing together.

13.  If you're gonna drink a backpack full of wine, don't finish the night by drinking beer.

 

14.  You are so lucky.  And you don't even know it yet. 

15.  This is your last first date.  It will be worth it.  I promise. 

Blog Post: Third Rewrite

This is the third time that I've re-written this blog post.  The start of this post was written at the beginning of the week, when I really just wanted to throw myself a pity party because things aren't moving fast enough.  You can see for yourself how the week has ended up. 

People always ask, "How's the adoption coming?"  And it's hard to answer that.  It feels like we are in such a holding pattern right now, just chomping at the bit until we can DO something. 

And by "do something," I mean bring a child into our family.

(This is the part where I laughed and laughed and laughed.  How silly am I to think that this is about Adam and I doing something?  In the course of the week, Adam and I did nothing.  But God...oh boy, God did some big things and wowed the socks off us.)

If you've been hanging with us for any bit of time, you know that our primary goal is to pay off any outstanding debt.  After that, we buy the house of our semi-dreams.  Then, we can officially start the adoption process. 

In theory, we could start the adoption process right now.  We could have a home study done in our 2-bedroom apartment (where, if we had a baby, the child would have to share some serious space with the kitties).  And then, when we moved into a house, we would just have to have the whole process updated (updating in this case pretty much means "redoing" and "paying more money.")

Until then, we wait. 

And I don't like waiting.  I like doing.

But, there are so many blessings in the wait.  I really have to look for them, but they are there.  And they are good.

(Again, insert laughter here. By the end of the week, I was no longer looking for the blessings. They were everywhere!)

(I love this song. I could watch this video a million times and never tire of it. Makes me think of us and all our waiting...)

For instance, yesterday (earlier in the week), I got a bill for an (overdue) medical bill that I have from last summer--related to feeling like I was basically gonna stroke out from post-wedding stress.  But anyway, it was kind of a last ditch effort to get me to pay up, which I planned on doing, but it wasn't really at the top of our list.  But they were willing to strike a deal and cut the bill by $837.83 if we pay the bill by the beginning of October.  Guess which bill just got moved to the top of the list?!  It'll be a bit of a scramble, but we can do it.

Also starting October 1, we are eligible for Tricare (Army) health insurance again.  Anyone who is self-employed knows the lament of paying a ridiculous amount of money for really craptastic health coverage.  It's slightly more expensive than our previous coverage, but won't go up when we have kids, no matter how many kids we have (score!).  And it will come directly out of Adam's Army income, so that will free up an extra $150/month.  Oh, and we won't go bankrupt if Adam has another kidney stone.  Yippee!

We found a house that we are in love with.  Unfortunately, we're about 6-8 months away from purchasing one.  Wah wah.  (This is really what the pity part was about.  By the end of the week, we are closer to this goal than we knew when I was whining around about it.)  The house has already been on the market for 120 days.  I don't use prayer as an ordering service, but I certainly think that God has found favor on our adoption (uh...big time!), and I know that He is going to (and already is) make big things happen in order to get this accomplished.  So I'm open to God keeping this house on the market for another 240 days, providing the finances to purchase the house sooner than planned, or providing another home that is better than this one (which, after looking at the home today, was the case).

Being self-employed, I have to pay quarterly taxes, since mine aren't just deducted from my paycheck each week.  In some ways, I envy people who never see the actual amount that the government takes out of their paycheck--it's really hard to have that money and purposely set it aside.  But after the first year, when we had a hefty little tax bill, I have been diligent about putting my tax money in a separate account.  When I figured my taxes on Saturday night (which is lame for a Saturday night--even as an adult), I found out that I made more than DOUBLE the amount that I did for the first two quarters of the year.  Now, that in and of itself is a huge blessing.  But the best part is that I had an extra $700 left over in my account once the taxes were paid.  I love God's math. 

 

A good friend of mine also hooked us up with a local adoption agency that offers programs in countries that we had not previously considered (Bulgaria, Samoa, Nicaragua, Democratic Republic of Congo), so we are just being open right now about where we're supposed to focus our adoption.  I even encouraged Adam to be open to the idea of domestic adoption--something that we had previously not considered for a variety of reasons.  The agency also has a non-profit component that helps families to obtain the funds needed for adoption. 

And perhaps the biggest kicker of all--I had another medical bill for about $2,350.  I made a pretty substantial payment on it over the weekend, but got concerned because my payment never got applied to the account.  When I called the company, they said they were no longer accepting payments for the hospital and that I needed to contact the hospital.  So I called the hospital, and they have no record of me owing this bill.  Uhmm...excuse me?  This bill seems to have completely vanished off the face of the Earth!  It's really hard to argue with someone that you really do actually owe them money. The sweet lady even said, "Well, we can't take a payment from you if we don't have the bill in the system."  And I said, "Good day."  Since the start of the summer, we have had over $10,000 in medical bills either be covered by health insurance we didn't know we had OR completely disappear!  In what WORLD does that happen?!

In the world of adoption, that's for sure. 

A-MAY-ZING!

So, what does all that mean?

It means that the majority of our debt is GONE.

Which means....WE CAN START SAVING FOR A HOUSE! 

And, golly, that makes me happy. 

(Footnote:  Today, Adam bought what he thought were a pair of $50 sneakers.  They rang up at $12.03.  I told you--the blessings were just knocking us in the face by the end of the week!)