I
wonder sometimes what people think it's like having two adoptive children so far away for
almost two years. Perhaps no two people would have the same
experience or feelings. Maybe it is different things for different people. For
me, I think that before God placed these children in my life, that I would
have thought it would be out of sight out of mind, or that each day away would
be easier than the day before. Thoughts like that are far from the reality of
my personal experience.
Not
a single day has gone by in the last 21 months without thoughts of
Jesula and Redjina. I think of them every day. Some days, when I am
really busy, I may think of them occasionally throughout the day. Some
days I think of them much more than others. I think about what they are
doing, if they are happy, what they are feeling, if they are safe, what they
have had to eat, or if they are thinking of me. I think about everything
imaginable.
There
are so many triggers that make me think of them. Some big and some
small. Some are obvious, like the two birthdays they each have had
come and go since we started the adoption process. Of course holidays,
particularly Thanksgiving and Christmas. But some are as
simple as when I walk out of church on Sunday and I think Jesula is probably
leaving church too and walking down the hill to the orphanage. Maybe it's a
weekday afternoon and I think Redjina has left school, caught two different
tap-taps across the city, and has started her 2 mile walk home. Maybe I am
eating rice and I think that's likely what they ate yesterday, and today, and will again tomorrow. Maybe I see someone eating spaghetti and I think about making
it for them in Haiti. Maybe I am pushing a buggy through the grocery store and
I think about which of the hundreds of the things on the shelves that they don't
even know exist, they might like. Maybe it's really hot outside and it just
feels like Haiti. Maybe it's that rare moment here that is really still
and quiet, that feels like every night time in Haiti. Maybe it's the stars in a night sky that appears so much bigger and
clearer in Haiti. Maybe it's sitting on the porch and seeing the moonlight glitter off a rooftop. Maybe it's a song playing that reminds me of them. Maybe it's
a picture or a post on facebook, or a call or a message from anyone that I have
served with, or a news story that flashes across the TV screen about Haiti.
Maybe it's at my son Matt's baseball game and I think what it will be like when
they are here. Perhaps it's my daughter Ashley speaking with them on the phone
in Creole, with which she has become well versed. Or maybe it's those tough times when Ashley calls me crying because she misses them desperately
that day. Honestly, it's way to many things to mention.
Some
days I just can't stop thinking about them. Some days I want
to walk away, drive to the airport and catch the first flight to
Haiti. Some days I desperately want their presence in my life. Some
days I really just need to see their face, hold them, and talk to them.
Today is one of those days!
