The universe in my sons
For those maybe not in the
loop, you read correctly: sons. 538 days ago, we had to give our first son back
to God. The void in me since that day, my last day with Michael is deep, wide
and at times still as jagged as the moment Ty told me our son was gone.
Adoption again was not even on our radar. But over 4 months ago on one of those
nights where Michael’s presence was overwhelming but the sense of his absence
so smothering, we opened up to one another. We were not sure what life held for
us but we talked, agreeing that we believed if we were to have more children,
it would manifest and not be sought out or manufactured. Like Michael, if our
parenting journey was not done, family would create for us. Two months ago we
got a call very different but yet so familiar: “His name is Austin, would you
guys go meet him, and we feel like this, you all, are the best fit for each
other….
I have said it, wrote and
shared it. The day Michael opened the door of his foster home. I understood God.
When they opened up Austin’s door that same feeling of peace and awe came
again. With Michael my walls of doubt crumbled, I knew I was and could always be
the mother he needed, wanted, deserved. Seeing Austin on his bed my walls
crumbled again, knowing no part of me was losing Michael by opening up again
and that my other son needed, wanted and deserved everything I felt in my heart
for him. That this too was my son and like Mike I had being waiting for him without even realizing it.Wistful I cannot raise them together however
they both are chambers in my heart. And without them both, I cannot be whole.
Someday Austin may stumble across this blog and reinforce for him that even in
the beginning I saw him, no file, not fear, him.
My sons are mirror
opposites but share a thread of resiliency, humor and grace that I do not know
I could have found inside myself if I had lived their younger lives. In both of
them infinite possibilities and beauty. You say your children are your life, I
do not think that is true, to be a parent worthy of your children, you must
have a life of your own, you must be yourself: centered, humored, and healing.
I think children are, or at least my sons to me, my universe. Something primal,
expanding and connecting to purpose. That may seem like a lot to put on a child
but it’s not. You build a life, create a life, and get a life. To say your
child is your life is a pressure for them to complete you, to enforce something
in you. When I say my sons are my universe, like it, they just are. They are
the part always with me, present, without having to support me. As I expand the
universe opens, it’s part of me but not responsible for me or my happiness. My
job is to connect with the universe, to hold space and just be part of it, the universe
flows in a natural rhythm. Sometimes smooth, often awkward, at times maddening.
Yet once connecting to it, there is also joy, wonder, and love. Parenting, like
the universe, incorporates the same things.
My sons, my universe is
both above my head and under my feet. Celestial and grounding all at once.
Michael in both life and death is the night sky. The stuff of impressionistic
paintings, musing of philosophers and lovers. To know my son Michael is to go
down a country road in a snow storm and stand still. The crisp air is both volatility
and breathtaking and then you look up. And what seems like incomprehensible
space and darkness is made welcoming by beautiful flecks of light. Stars that
burn off their own power. Some like my son, fixed in his beliefs and values.
Others falling, tracing light in the sky. Like his ideas, his movements, his
power to bring lightness into darkness. To stare at the stars is reflection,
wonder, and wish. To sit under the stars you hear your internal questions,
desires and appreciation of the world in that moment. Michael lived for “that"moment.
Austin while I am not sure
he knows it yet, or maybe still thinks I am bat shit crazy, is the ocean. His surface
can be both clear and crystal or ruff and choppy. But underneath those waves or
currents is a depth that is yet to be understood, explored, and celebrated.
Austin has a musician’s soul, and like the ocean his rhythm, his motions, power
creates ecosystems that cultivate harmony and mystery each layer you dive
deeper. Without the ocean and its rhythm there will be no whale songs, no coral
reefs, no ancient draw to explore a horizon. Austin is the
cleansing breath you take on the shoreline, listening to water, feeling connected,
forcing yourself to look deeper inward. He is that lapping of water that allows
you to be comfortable in the silence, take pause and just be. I am honored he is
willing to share those unexplored depths with us. He ebbs and flows and like the
tide is not aware that with each touch he can change the landscape.
Day 538, in this world, I
was a childless mother. Day 539 I am the mother of two wonderful sons. My
universe connecting me to both of them, through wonder and pure love. So Michael
kiddo as always until the next world mom loves and misses you so much. And Austin,
we will get you home soon, we promise, we love and miss you and we will always
be there.
Mom loves you my sons
