I was looking for something to eat in the refrigerator when it dawned on me that I didn’t know the date. Was it the 17th? Had the 17th passed? My mind searched for the date and then there it was, today was the 17th. Today was the day. Four years ago, today Rowan came home. It was gotcha day.
For a moment I questioned what that meant. How could I forget such an important day? How could I forget the day my big girl came home? Is it because as time goes on celebrating the gotcha day becomes less important because we are a family, plain and simple and we celebrate her birthday and that’s enough? But than I thought no, that’s not it, because I’m pretty sure we’d always celebrate the baby’s and Jory’s gotcha days, though granted that could be because they fall a day apart during the most wonderful time of the year known as the Christmas season.
Whatever the reason, I was shocked that I had forgotten but I decided to make the best of it. And what better way to spend your gotcha day then running errands with your family. Nothing says family like driving your Oma around to thrift stores as she searches for the perfect white wooden dresser and bureau for the room you will one day share with your Irish twin. And since it was support group night, I thought some Chinese food to share with others and sharing our story would be a great way to spend the evening.
Four years. Four years. It seems much longer than four years. Four years and two days ago, when I first saw her picture. I thought she was a cute baby. An hour later when I met her in person at her foster home, I thought wow no one told me she was part Asian. Later I found out she was half-Samoan. There’s something about me and these Asian/Pacific Islander girls that I meet them for an hour one day and the next day or the day after they become my forever daughters.
I remembered holding her while sitting on the carpet in her foster family’s living surrounded by my SW, her CW, her adoption CW, foster mom, foster grandma, and the four other kids under the age of four living there. As I sat on the floor, Uncle LC’s comment, she has some meat on her bones, did go through my mind. Chunky cheeks and a few whispers of hair. She was a cute one.
Who would have imagined four years and two days later, I would have a big girl: who loves to share; if you’re sick she’s there to rub your back and ask if you feel better; loves her brother and her sister; who remembers fondly when she was a little girl of three; who loves to squeal with delight when she’s happy to see you; who loves to scream to hear her own voice or because she’s upset; who has more patience and kindness than I have because she’s always quick, after the screams and tears, to say “That’s okay, baby” after the baby has apologized for hitting her, taking something from her, or biting her. I think I would have smacked that baby by now, but that’s me.
I never imagined I would look at her at times and wonder was she born a blonde. Or look at her and worry that one day she’s gonna be the girl in the horror film that hears a noise outside in the woods and decides to go investigate by herself with no shotgun, wooden stakes, silver bullets, or holy water. Who would have imagined the six-and-a-half-month-old I held would one day love to give hugs, give kisses, and cuddle and snuggle in the bed; would love to tell me about all the naughtiness and mischief her brother and/or sister get into; and would be so incredibly emotional.
My brilliant, beautiful, kind big girl. Who would have ever thunk that once upon a time your Mommy was smokin’ crack and thought it would be a fine idea for your two-and-a-half-year-old brother to name you and that you were almost Daphne? Daphne wasn’t a bad name, I just wasn’t sure I could live with it for the rest of my life. Your brother's not so bad in the naming department. He could have wanted to name you Velma.
Thank goodness, I did the best three out of five and you became the Rowan that you are. I can’t imagine you with any other name. I love you! I love you forever. I like you for always, though I won’t always like what you do or say. As long as I’m living my baby you’ll be.
Four years ago, I was blessed once again to have the privilege, the honor, and the responsibility to be your Mommy and I thank God everyday for the blessing that is you.
And in parting, here is my greatest prayer, wish for you…
I wish for you my friend, my daughter, my love
This happiness that I've found
You can depend on God
It matters not where you're bound
I'll shout it from the mountain top (Hey world!)
I want the world to know
The Lord of love has come to me
I want to pass it on
No comments:
Post a Comment