Our chimney is closed!

As we ready ourselves for the holiday festivities, we pause and tread lightly on the traditions set forth by J.W. Parkinson, R.H. Macy and James Edgar. These are the historic retail giants that helped bring Santa Clause to the forefront of American culture.

Friends and strangers alike ask, “What are you doing for the holiday? I bet Brase is excited about Santa Clause.” This makes us cringe as America's Santa is excluded from our traditions. 

In our household, we celebrate the season not the singular holiday. The separate celebrations we host tell many stories but contribute to the overall big picture.  We reflect with Advent candles, understand the gift of giving through Saint Nicholas, journey with Los Posadas, celebrate Christ's birth and revisit the glory of the Epiphany with Three Kings. Along this celebratory path we reflect in the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, Feast of the Holy Innocents, Feast of the Holy Family and Solemnity of Mary - Mother of God. And... let us not forget the lights of Chanukah. This is a very busy time of year.

It simply amazes me that friends and strangers assume that we are neglecting Brase by excluding The America Mall Loving Santa. The holidays are full of all kinds of traditions.  For instances... I love fruit cake but I am not cramming it down anybodies throat!

The reality is that our son gets more gifts than most kids.  We give small tokens and toys in the spirit of Christ, Saint Nicholas, The Three Kings and Chanukah.  This is part of the story telling tradition. 

Our holidays are filled with an endless series of teachable moments. We believe our gift of words will assist our son and generations that follow him. The stories we read and tell will become our strongest legacy. I might add… a legacy that will long out live a video game, remote control car or cashmere sweater.  We only get one chance at raising our child.  One chance to teach him valuable life lessons, manners and morals.

Our chimney is closed to the fat man in the red suit!  And... I believe our American life will prosper without his toys or whimsical pursuits.

Today is her birthday

I ponder her fate.

Wishing flickering candles lit her face.

I wonder if she’s safe.

Hoping joyful songs fill her space.

I pray for her sake.

Remembering her makes me ache.

Where has this little girl gone?

She was known to us as...
Catalina Theresa

Adoption and fostering to adopt each have great pitfalls. They come with no guarantees or promises. You step into each process with a giant leap of faith. You give up time, energy, funds and ultimately control in your quest to become a parent.

Our family’s story ended in happiness. It was a long hard path but a path filled with life lessons. Our story overflowed with joy and grief simultaneously. It was the most enlightening journey we have ever taken.

Looking back, we do not know how we endured all that came our way. In the aftermath of our first loss, we remained in fog for many months. Our life was frozen in time and insurmountable grief. We shuttered our life and became reclusive. Friends wandered away unable to understand our circumstances. It was the greatest loss we have ever experience. It was the loss of our child.

I write this for all those who have experienced this particular type of grief. It’s a loss that is hard for friends and family to wrap their arms around. This is a loss that adoption and foster care agencies look at with a blind eye. It leaves the grief stricken without a place to turn.

We had a daughter for a brief moment. We prayed for her before she was born and continue to hope God’s Grace shines upon her.

The road behind us is our other blog. We used it as a dumping ground for our adoption failures. We open the pages to give perspective to those experiencing the trauma of adoption disruption. The road was rough but we would not have our son if we did not make the entire journey.
http://theroadbehindus.blogspot.com/

In the hospital minutes after Catalina was born.

June 8, 2009 at 7:19 p.m.

On Children

Your children are not your children.  They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts.  You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.  For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.  The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness; For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

The Prophet (1923)

Author: Khalil Gibran (1883-1931)