What an incredibly fast and short week just flew by me! Funny thing though, is that daughter Margie just mentioned in passing how LONG the last week was. Isn't that interesting? How can both of our feelings of something be so different and yet we both had the same number of hours and days?
My last Blog post spoke of the dread that was overtaking me at returning to work after a two week hiatus, and those feelings were also different than my reality. The week was busy, fine and in fact, I began a new health kick. I want to call it a health regime but that could be overly optimistic. Each day I made healthy food choices and then walked the track at school a few times, building up to unlimited endurance , I hope. I will keep at it until I am as energetic as the 83 year old lady on the ski commercial who prompted me to begin. No kidding, she was a water skier and I couldn't even walk to the kitchen without being out of breath. Totally annoying and I decided then and there to change something.
One of the week's events that made an impression on my mind(and believe me that isn't easy to do) was the celebration of my birthday twins. Yes, I have two sets of grandchildren who are twins, but once a year I also have birthday twins. Margie came into the world in 1978 and on that exact same day in 1985 Joshua entered the world.
Josh is allergic to lots of foods, and since our tradition is eating your favorite meal on your birthday, there is an annual negotiation that takes place every year about the first of January. It goes something like this "I'll pick the main course, you pick the salad, then we both agree on dessert", "no,no, no, you picked the dessert last year so it's my turn this year and anyhow I hate the salad always being my choice, I want the main course". This conversation with minor fluctuations goes on every single year and we always end up with applesauce for Josh with cheese on the side of whatever else they choose for Margie. This year had me making Brazilian spaghetti, while applesauce and Italian Bread with Joel's homemade apple pie came along for dessert. Ice cream was extra.
These two children of mine are as different as any two could be, but on this one day of the year they act like biological birth twins, laughing, sitting next to each other to open gifts, consorting on whose gifts are better, and reminding me of the true worth of a family unit. By the actual date there have been several conversations and phone calls, and I have never been quite sure why. It amuses me to watch and observe.
Some would say that a large family is too expensive, adoption is too risky and combining other people's genes with your own family is foolish. Others add that cross cultural adoption adds too much stress to a child and that there is no way a person from another race can understand all of the 'issues' involved.
They would be correct.
It was expensive to adopt Joshua and then Andrew, and this after birthing five others, and adopting Danny and having him die before he reached one year.
Fortunately for us, God paid all the bills. He continues to handle our finances quite well with occasional help from me and my job.
The adoption was risky because after I adopted one child I wanted as many as my house could hold.
The race issue, always an interesting topic of discussion, seems to come up as an aside when all other arguments have failed. I suppose the fact that my grandfather spoke more Spanish than English and what English he spoke was so accented that I considered heavy accents a normal part of life, should enter the talk. Or how about that my German grandmother left my sisters and I in stitches as she told us to get our P-Yays on at bedtime? Her accent , completely different from Grandpa's was also a normal sound to our ears. What did I, a blond little girl whose last name was Garcia, whose teachers argued with her to say Gar-sha, not Gar-C-I-A, understand about different cultures and backgrounds? How could I read and empathize and fully teach my sons the importance of their black heritage? Was race something to be ignored or incorporated into our interestingly diverse family unit? I might also mention that the reason for Brazilian spaghetti for the birthday dinner was because we have many such recipes handed down from the kid's paternal grandmother whose life was spent in her native Brazil developing these tasty foods. Their Brazilian father made sure they fully understood and learned that the capital of Brazil is Brasilia and the language spoken is Portuguese, thank you very much! Black? Hispanic? Spanish? English? Portuguese? White? Black? Brown? Blond? How about Rich? Poor? Kind? Compassionate? Loving? Joyful? Contented? Caring? Laughter? What are we teaching the children , now that I am thinking of it? Did we do our job? Have we made the case for cross racial adoption or large families being a valued commodity?
I think so. Ask the Birthday twins, numbers 3 and 6 in this multi-gifted and blessed family.
Oh, and for the record, I would still adopt if I thought I could be as energetic and live as long as that 83 year old skiing lady I saw . Maybe I'll walk another mile.
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