Throughout our journey people have commented, “You should write a book”. Sometimes the unique challenges our family faced felt like an odd mixture of “Survivor”, “Malcom in the Middle”, and one of Stephen King’s novels (I can’t even name one of his books because I’m not able to willingly subject myself to horror). Of course, at those times, I was usually quite involved in living out “Survivor”, and it’s only recently that I’ve put more thought into sharing a bit more of our story in a public forum.
I found myself pondering what we would hope to accomplish in sharing parts of our story. In the past decade, I wrote because it helped me process what was happening, and my brain would become clearer as I poured my heart out onto paper. The journey has been challenging, and I am not the person I was. Will I be able to adequately express thoughts in writing? Can one write about challenges in a way that is real and transparent, while at the same time protecting those they love? In the end, we decided to take one step at a time. Not all that unlike the process that starts adoption. You open the door by way of educational classes, and research “children waiting” lists. You don’t know where the journey will take you, but you take that one step forward.
I would take delight in introducing you to my family:
My husband and I have been married for 20 years. He is one of the biggest blessings in my life and for reasons you will understand later, he is my “Mr. Steady”. Our son is 19 years old. He is “home-grown” (biological). He has a “can do” attitude, is kind and brings much amusement to our lives! Our daughter is 16 years old, and at 9 months of age we adopted her from an orphanage in Siberia. She is incredibly creative, has a tender heart, and is a hard worker. We consider ourselves blessed. We have times that feel surreal, as we all are aware of what our lives were like; and yet, it would appear that we have survived, and are even a great distance down the road of healing. Do we still struggle? Yes. There are still times we represent “Survivor” and “Malcom in the Middle”, although, thankfully, it’s been awhile since we depicted anything similar to Stephen King’s novels. There are times it feels like we’ve been afloat in a raging ocean, our bodies tossed and whipped back and forth…..and we find ourselves now on the beach, looking back, in awe that we survived. We are at the point in our lives where we can breathe a bit easier. The road ahead looks much more passable than what we’ve come through, so why would we spend this time going back to the ocean that nearly destroyed us? There is no longer the desperate need for us to have answers, and while we know it’s not smooth sailing ahead for us…we believe the worst is over. Our desire now is to help other families, who are still being thrashed in the ocean. It reminds me of this poem from Will Allen Dromgoole:
The Bridge Builder
An old man going a lone highway,
Came at the evening, cold and gray,
To a chasm, vast, and deep and wide,
Through which was flowing a swollen tide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
The rapids held no fears for him;
But he turned, when safe on the other side,
And built a bridge to span the tide.
“Old man,” said a fellow pilgrim near,
“You are wasting strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the closing day;
You never again will pass this way;
You’ve crossed the chasm, deep and wide-
Why build you this bridge at the evening tide?”
The builder lifted his old gray head:
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There followeth after me today,
A youth, whose feet must pass this way.
This chasm, that has been naught to me,
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building this bridge for him.”
There will be times we invite other Moms to share their heart regarding the path they have journeyed. This blog is not intended to represent the views of At a Bend in the Road as an organization, but be more of an atmosphere where Moms can gather together, in a cozy corner, with soft lighting, and cushy chairs….you know…the ones you might just fall asleep in. I will bring the coffee, you bring the chocolate. I look forward to meeting you at…
Trauma Momma’s Corner