2012 was a long year and I am not sorry to see it go. My health reared up and demanded attention. I lost my focus with Hope, lost it in a sea of attachment. I forgot I was trying to make Hope an integral part of my family. I let others take the lead with Hope. I have never done that with one of my kids.
I thought I was improving my relationship with Mk, but it was superficial. She still hates me and thinks I hate her. I have been married almost 35 years and this year I came closer to divorce then ever before.
There were mixed events. I got to know GB’s needs much better. The cost? I had to face how much damage alcohol exposure prenatally did to her. My pain has steadily increased, but I discovered acupuncture provided relief. I dared to reach out to new friends. It is a much better way to live, but it sometimes results in pain.
There were a couple of blessings. Jimmy came back into our lives. I have three new grandchildren and became a great grandmother for the first time. We found a team of four therapists to work with our family.
2013 holds the joy and promise of healing and a new start.
Thirty plus years ago we had three boys. You know about J. He was an infant. Robbie came as an adoptive placement at eight. When he hit puberty at 12 he started hallucinating. The only way we could get treatment for him was by dissolving the adoption. It wasn’t what we wanted, it wasn’t what he wanted but there were no other options. The third boy was Jimmy. He came to us as a foster child when he was 10. The county wouldn’t let him go back to his dad. His mother was the permanency plan. When she made only one of her scheduled weekly visits in six months time, that plan was scrapped. We eventually adopted him. When Robbie was placed in an RTC, the anger boiled over in Jimmy. He hated me, he hated The Dad, he hated rules, he hated chores. After six months in a treatment group home, Jimmy was still adamant that he did not want to be adopted any more. After four years as a foster then adoptive placement, we dissolved the adoption. It was painful. I was young and reasonably clueless. That was almost 27 years ago.
Wednesday, I received a FB message from a 17 year old girl asking if I had an adopted son named James. Thursday was Hope’s big meltdown. I didn’t look at the message until Friday. I answered that I had an adopted son named James a long time ago, but he had chosen to end the relationship. Saturday afternoon, we exchanged more information and it was apparent she was talking about my Jimmy. She then told me that Jimmy was her father and she was kinda my granddaughter.
Saturday night, Jimmy started a chat on FB that lasted over an hour. He left here angry, but was now able to place the anger at the county for taking him away from his Dad and his mother who abandoned him. Sunday morning after breakfast and showers, I opened FB and Jimmy was there waiting. He lives about an hour and a half from us. This afternoon, he brought his wife and his three kids to meet us. His two youngest did well with our girls and his oldest daughter stayed right by me. It was amazing the details Jimmy remembered. The Dad got out two huge picture albums and the two of them went through them picture by picture. The visit lasted six hours and there were no strained moments.
Jimmy had grown into a man that I liked and enjoyed. He has been married 19 years and is a good father. Sometimes, you get to see the flower that came from the seed you planted… even if it is 27 years later.