Just the Beginning

So many moments. So little time. I'm sure as I look back I will be frustrated that I didn't take the time to briefly reflect on those short moments that define our lives.

I'll begin with a short 15 minute court appearance that closed the door on a chapter of our lives that is still difficult to grasp, still difficult to understand, and probably will never be able to be explained with emotion that it deserves. Erline Celias finally became Josie Erline Shomin. Since January 19th, we have been introducing Erline as Josie, but legally we have been sponsoring this child until October when that short court appearance presented Josie Erline Shomin to her new mom and dad. I understand that we have been her parents since we first held her in the Miami International Airport, but now there is closure. An atypical family with an unusual beginning, but yet, a family. Nothing is atypical about our love, our bond, our support, our connections. We are a family.

So Josie had become a Shomin and my boys have opened their hearts and their home to this little girl. It hasn't always been easy, and we sometime forget how much they have sacrificed. But they have grown, and their personalities continue to blossom.

The environmental school has been a perfect fit for Kade and yes that is a real Praying Mantis. There were a few growing pains. Yet the teacher he initially feared has become a role model for Kade. Mr.G is demanding, but these demands have brought with them a maturity level that has exceeded my expectations. Kade is bright, but never enjoyed school. Now school has a new meaning. A day of adventure with learning so subtle that the children do not realize the education that is offered. Minds grow, personalities develop and children exceed expectations. How good is the fit? In second grade Kade said he wanted to be a herpetologist (a person who studies reptiles). At Goodwillie, Kade was nick-named "Reptilian". So many paths, but so far Kade has found his way by making his own trail.

Isaac completed his first year of football and he loved it (#6 cornerback on the far side of the field). He may have been the lightest kid on the team, but Isaac is solid. At only 8, he doesn't realize his own strength, but he understands his heart. His heart drives his desire to succeed, but he is one of the the most compassionate kids I know. I can say with honesty that when I watch Isaac, I learn so much. He is determined, however he will listen. Never being afraid to fail, and willing to learn from others. Yet his determination never leads him astray. I enjoy watching him. The ice cream truck plays faintly in the distance. Isaac runs to grab money, but he always grabs enough to cover his brother, sister or even neighbor. He is the one that always reminds us at each meal to pray. A wispered thank you at those times when one is not needed. A good hearted kid whose passions are his own. Compassion is what he shares with others.

Today I watched Josie walk in the door of the restaurant where we were meeting her mother. A sudden "Mama!". A pitter-patter of feet that began slowly, quickly picking up pace as if the train had just pulled away from the station. A smile. Then a hug! At times Kelly still wonders if she is bonding with Josie. But today I watched everyone in a full restaurant hold their breath and whisper "awww". Yep, she is mama's little girl and now we have the paper to prove it.

A Perfect Season

The ping of the ball flying off the bat filled the air. Then a moment of silence. I watched and the ball seemed to hang against the cloudless blue sky. Suddenly I realized the path of the ball. It was headed right towards Isaac in left center. I could feel my heart beat and I was terrified to watch but my eyes remained glued on Isaac. The phrase, "I'm the worst player on my team!", tugged at my emotions because those were the exact words that Isaac spoke before the game. Words that came out of no-where, but a feeling of despair that weighed heavy on our minds. Here he was, one on one with the ball, a moment that would define the season. The glove snapped shut. Slowly the glove opened, the ball was nestled between the leather walls, fitting snugly within the pocket. My heart started to beat again, a sigh or relief. The excitement of the moment literally frozen in time. You see, Isaac was so excited he didn't know what to do next. Suddenly coaches yelled, "Isaac throw it in!". Time still frozen. A few more seconds of uncertainty and finally the ball made it back to the pitcher. The play officially over and I could finally enjoy being the proud parent. In my mind the game ended right then, but the reality is there was still one more out that had to be made. Honestly I don't even recall the last out, I was to busy still being proud. I knew this moment would ease Isaac's pre-game thoughts and offer nothing but confidence for next year.
Baseball finally ended. I thought I would be excited because baseball dominates so much time in the spring. This year it felt like we were constantly running. The hardest night was Wednesday. Kelly had 2 practices at 2 different locations at 2 different times, I was gone at work and Josie was a busy, not always so patient 2 year old. So you can image the chaos that ensued. But Kelly and I always miss the season when it is over. It is a lot of work, but watching our children is so enjoyable for each of us. This year Isaac's team was perfect, 16-0. Personally, for me, the perfection will always be in that season ending catch.

For most, summer begins. Kade's friend however remains in the hospital. We think about this child everyday. We hold onto every encouraging piece of information that comes our way. We feel for the family. We hope for the best. Kelly and I try to read Kade and understand his emotions. He keeps his feeling so hidden. I think he does not know how to handle them, so he keeps these emotions under lock and key, never fully facing them, but subtly understanding them. Today Kade found the key, and relaesed these emotions into an ear to ear smile that lifted the spirits in the room and left Kelly with a tear in her eye. Apparently Kade' friend has progressed enough that his parents offered him the chance to have a visitor. When asked, he requested Kade. An honor Kade will never fully grasp. An honor insignificant to mere fact that Kade's friend is finally winning the battle with his illness. Childhood friendships. Kindness, compassion and love. Christ-like behaviors that we should truly understand and appreciate. Friendships change with time, so the final outcome of this relationship cannot be predicted, but I believe the time Kade spends with his friend will follow Kade for the rest of his life. This moment will impact who he is today and who he will become tomorrow. Very few 10 year olds prepare to say goodbye and then, suddenly are invited to experience a miraculous hello.

A Two-out Rally

The last pitch was thrown. A called strike. A two-out rally had ended as suddenly as that faint glimmer of hope had surfaced with two walks and now runners at 1st and 2nd. Faces turned down, hope became despair and heavy feet kicked dust in the air. The baseball season ended sooner than every child on the team had expected. A winning season, ended with a first round tournament loss. A season full of wins, makes losing so much more difficult to except. Expressionless faces, a few tears, kids slowly walked to their parents cars. Their emotions much larger than the ball field, now only seen through the rear view mirror.

It is hard as a parent to see our children lose. The disappointment in their eyes tug at our hearts. We console or kids and try to impart wisdom to help lessen the sting. Little do our kids know how much of the pain we share. We search for the right words. We search for that perfect moment where we can teach our children that, yes, losing is disappointing. We stress those magical moments that occur during the season that will forever be irreplaceable. Moments that will bring us back to the game and the possibility that we will again face the reality of losing.

And sometimes life replaces our words and events unfold that truly teach us that a game lost is, well, nothing more than an opportunity to look forward to future games and future wins. We get lost in the emotions of our games until reality sets in and we learn the truth to our disappointment...it's just a game.

The disappointment continued to hang in the air. Kade's emotions still difficult for him to handle. Then real tragedy hit. A brief email suddenly brought perpestive to all of us. Kade's friend became critically ill. Suddenly the game seems so long ago and the unexpected turns of life hit us right in the face. We feel lost.

We tuck our children into bed. Our usual prayers take on a new direction. No longer does striking out feel that bad. We take time for each other. We take a moment for Kade's friend. The loss of a game now seems simple, but our earlier hope for that two-out rally is rediscovered in a more meaningful situation.

Growing Up

I always laughed at my wife, because she would have a hard time parting with clothes that no longer fit the kids. It was her way of holding onto the moment, stopping time and not allowing the kids to age another day. Of course her efforts were fruitless, but I always chuckled at the idea. Today was different. At the boys end of the year talent show, I finally realized that my kids are growing up. Not aging, but maturing. I listened as the staff sang "We Will Miss You" to the beat of We Will Rock You, realizing that Kade is moving on to a new school and Isaac will complete his time at Ada Elementary. No longer will their days start and end at the same location. And Kelly points out that they will be apart until high school.

Separation marks a new beginning, but also a loss for each. Sure they have their disagreements. Yet they always would look out for one another at school, catching a glimpse of the other out of the corner of their eye and finding comfort in that brief moment. Enemies at times, but brothers forever.

Kade moves onto Goodwillie and Isaac will become Isaac. Isaac's first step into his own personna occurred today at school when he played his drums. He put away his fears, put on his headphones and for a moment became the big brother. He was so excited and as parents we were ever so proud. It is hard to beleive, but my kids are growing. For me, this marks the first time I have wanted to hold on to the clothes that were too small. Yep, a touch of sadness as I realized my kids are growing. I should have understood my wife has known what she is doing all along.

Whew....

Life has been so hectic that I have had a difficult time to sit and, well, sit. I forgot what life was like with a 2 year old. Constant motion. Hands that seem to reach beyond one's expectations, and cat like quickness that won' t let you turn your back for a second. Oh, the life of a two year old. Last night at dinner, the boys and I talked. We laughed about the frustrations associated with a 2 year old. None of us could completely understand how we can be so angry, yet love this little one so much. We laughed,
I breathed.
Life continues to move forward. Kade and Isaac are so busy with baseball. Between their games, practices, my work nights, and sweet Josie I have had a hard time finding down time. So the blog has lost time with me. A large gap where so much has happened, and sadly some of the moments worth remembering will slowly fade into nothingness.

Time for a breath. A moment to sit. A moment to relax. Time to reflect.But yesterday was one of those magical days. A moment where tears begin to form, our heart beats in our throat and time stands still. I watched Kade slowly open his letter to Goodwillie Environmental School. His hands shook. The envelope seemed so difficult to open. The paper tore, suddenly I saw "Congratulations!". A month of waiting, a moment of relief. Kade had been accepted into the school. A time to breath. I am fortunate that my 10 year old was accepted into a very competitive school, but we openly talked about the many who may have had their breath taken away as they realized that one of their hopes may have been left unrealized. Another of life's hard lessons. Our fortune is another's misery. Elated and sorrowful. So many ups and downs. So much happiness, but a time to reflect on another's loss. Learning to be gracious can be difficult for a child,but it is a value that is so important.

I am so proud of my children. Our biggest lesson, if you always give your best effort, you will never have anything to be ashamed of. They are learning, and I am still learning from them.

Looking Through Another

The other day we were out having dinner at local restaurant. An elderly women rose at the adjacent table and slowly wandered to our table. She spoke softly with a gentle smile on her face. I noticed a tear in her eye. Our family touched her. She told us how at her age she had learned to appreciate many things, among those appreciations was our family. Apparently watching us brought a tear to her eye. She explained how she loved watching our family interact. She thanked us, placed her hands on Kelly and Josie and returned to her seat.

That encounter made me pause and think. Our family must be content. That is the only plausible explanation on why a total stranger would take the time to tell us how she appreciated our family. I love how we are seen as a family, and no one ever questions the different skin colors. Our smiles and laughter are truly colorless.

And I thought a little more. What would it have been like to see through that woman's eyes? To think her thoughts. To feel the raw emotion that led to the subtle tears. During all those times where we are angry, sad, or frustrated, it would be nice to step outside ourselves and see our situation through another. Maybe then we would realize that life is what we make of it, and often our stressful situations are quite trivial.

Relationship Building

A mother-daughter bond is an amazing, almost palpable, display of love. It is a connection that develops with that first interaction. The first touch. The first smile. The first eye contact. It is a web that develops catching the souls of each and holding them so close to the heart. It is a bond that develops at birth, but Josie wasn't born to this family, so it is a bond that is still blossoming.

It is interesting. Imagine being blind, slowly feeling the others face, becoming intimate with the the soft hair of the eye lashes, the gentle curve of the lips, the strength of the jaw. Each person learns from this interaction. One becomes familiar with the face, the other with the soft touch of the hand. This is Kelly's life right now. Josie touches Kelly, but Kelly wonders if Josie knows who she is. It is difficult. A mother wants her child to truly understand that her love is unconditional, but with this adoption doubt is difficult to escape. Kelly is waiting for that reassurance that Josie knows her as he mother. That Josie looks to her before she is held by another. A look that shows that slight hesitation, that time where a daughter knows that her mom is watching and her mother's eyes reciprocating reassurance that everything will be fine. A glance from the child that says "mom, I love you" even as she enters the arms of another.

I see that bond forming. A subtle backward step towards mom. A slight pause when she hears moms voice. It is there, but I think any mother would question the subtlety, and hope for more concrete actions. It is amazing to see how Kelly and Josie are looking to each other for the exact same feelings. Attachment!