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| “Tiger” |
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| Totally need to submit this to Awkward Family Photos |
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| Just keepin’ it real. |
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| Candy in mouth; tears gone. Mostly. |
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| What DID you get yourself into? |
Tag: Johnny Page 4 of 5
We missed out on a lot of years, but Forever Angels volunteers took dozens of pictures. We get to recreate Johnny’s history for him, and as any adoptive family knows, that is priceless.
Monday, August 17th
Mwanza is 700 miles away in northern Tanzania, on the shores of Lake Victoria. Gil, Lily, and I flew up in the afternoon. Lily got to come because we were going to Forever Angels, My Orphanage, as Lily describes it. She was two when she left. She had no memory of it, so we aimed to fix that.
We arrived at Forever Angels at 6:00 pm. Hannah, one of the longer-term volunteers, was sitting outside with Johnny when we arrived. She told us later that he had been so excited all day, eagerly telling anyone who would listen that he was getting a mama and baba, and would be going on the airplane.
But when the longed-for moment came, he shrank inside himself. He knew how to relate to us when we were just ordinary visitors–because he had seen a lot of those. But a mama and baba? No clue. I crept up to him and sat with him on the couch, where he was clutching the picture of us that he had examined for the past two weeks.
Since it was dinner time, the plan was to go to a restaurant together with Hannah and Georgie, volunteers that Johnny knew and loved well. He let me hold him in the taxi, but during dinner, he stuck with Hannah. His big eyes kept a worry crease, but usually we could get him to laugh.
Tuesday, August 18th
We hung out in the Baby Home, which is not known for peace or quiet. The children barrage any friendly face–or even not-so-friendly–the moment you step in the door. If you’ve got an arm or a lap free–or part of a lap–they want in on it. As far as they were concerned, even Lily was big enough to be fair game.
When we went outside, we discovered Johnny was hiding behind a playhouse, which we were told he does often. He let me hold him, but mostly he kept his distance. I caught him solemnly watching us from across the garden.
At lunch time, we decided to take Johnny out with just us, to practice for that evening’s departure. We ate at a deserted hotel down the road, where it was just our family. We pushed on the swings and we played hide and seek, and Johnny was won over. For a while, the worry line disappeared and the smile emerged. I repeated to him what I had been saying all day. Will you come on the airplane with us? Will you come to our house? Finally, instead of stoic eyes, I got tiny nods.
Then we went to the social welfare office to make everything official.
In the evening, we took Johnny back into the Baby Home to say goodbye. The children mobbed him. Kwa Heri, Johnny! Good-bye, Johnny! Hugs, kisses.
I couldn’t hold back the tears.
Because so many had loved him.
Because the loss in his life is real.
Because there were so many others left behind.
He was so brave. He took my hand, a total stranger, and walked off from the place he loved. So much trust in one little three-year-old boy.
He fought sleep for hours, taking in dozens of new sights and experiences. He finally succumbed in the plane, and we got to our home in Dar es Salaam at midnight.
Wednesday, August 19–today
He met Grace and Josiah today, and as I write, he is sleeping after his first full day at home. More about that later. But for now, I just want to celebrate that there is one less orphan in the world, and that there are four children in my house, and that they are mine.
Dear Johnny,
All week I’ve been waiting for that letter. The social worker told us maybe we would get it last Monday, so when I had to wait all week for it, I was way too impatient. On Friday morning, he told us that “probably” it would be ready that day.
All day long, I pasted my phone to myself. Finally, at 4:00 pm, we got the text. The letter was ready. I jumped in the car to drive to town, even though I knew at that time of the day, it would take me three hours round trip, and even though we had guests coming for dinner. In traffic on the phone, I talked your Dad through making the lasagna and getting it in the oven. I finally got home at 7:00, but it was all totally worth it. We have the letter!
I never dreamed I would be this excited. I had really contented myself on having three children. When Tanzania turned us down the first time, your Dad and I had tried to adopt a son from Ethiopia. When that fell through, and the social worker here wasn’t budging, I had pretty much given up. We had always wanted four kids, but I figured it wasn’t meant to be. I told God that I was thankful He had at least given us three, and I could be content.
So you, my sweet boy, are just icing on the cake! You are such a special gift to us; an undeserved extra blessing.
I am in awe of it all now. When we first asked Tanzania for a fourth child and were turned down, you had not yet come to Forever Angels. It’s crazy to think that all this time, you were the one God had picked out for us. We just had to wait until it all came together.
And speaking of providential timing, it can’t be a coincidence that today would have been Jeremiah Petchnick’sthird birthday. You, John Jeremiah, are named after him, so it’s pretty amazing that you are coming home at the very same time as his birthday.
I know, my son, that this homecoming will not be easy for you. You are leaving the only place you remember, a place full of so much love and so much fun. I won’t be surprised if you cry when we take you away. But what you don’t know is that you would not have been able to stay there forever; in just a year’s time, you would have been transferred to a long-term orphanage. And there would not have been a Mommy to sit with you when you cry yourself to sleep. We know a family is what you need, even if you don’t know what a family is yet. So we are making this choice for you, and we feel the weight of that responsibility.
I look at your pictures and I dream about what you will be like. You are older than our other kids when they came home, old enough that you might even remember this event. We really don’t know anything about you, and as we’ve discovered from our other kids, the “Family” Johnny might end up being completely different from the “Orphanage” Johnny. Crazy how kids find their true selves once they finally belong to a family.
We know you might have a lot of tears. We know there might be a lot of anger inside you that needs to come out. That’s okay, my boy. You have reason to be sad and angry. That’s what we’re here for. It’s okay to be messy in this house.
But you are Coming Home. You have been chosen; our love has been put on you. And it’s a Never-Stopping, Never Giving Up, Unbreaking, Always and Forever Love.** That kind of love can only come from God, who loved us first. We hope one day you’ll know His love too, but for now, He’ll show it to you through us.
Welcome Home, My Son.
Love,
Your Mom
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| Photo credit: Hannah Towlson |
**Thanks, Sally Lloyd-Jones!
Yesterday I forgot the Swahili word for twenty.
It’s one of the first Swahili words I learned….14 years ago. I’ve used it thousands of times since then. Adoptive moms definitely get pregnancy brain.
We’re waiting for one. last. letter. One last blasted stinkin’ letter.
Apparently it’s been written, but needs to be signed by another person and then stamped by yet another person….in a different building.
These last few days, I jump every time my phone rings. If you’ve called me recently, and I sound disappointed that it’s only you, I apologize. Don’t take it personally.
I’m at least two weeks overdue. This baby wants to come out. Please, somebody induce me.
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| This was two days ago. Thank you, Hannah, for continuing to post pictures of our gorgeous boy. I can’t stop looking, even though it’s torture to see them! |