Tag Archives: Family

You came just in time

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Remir on patrol in his last high school soccer game.

Remir has now played his last high school soccer game.  That doesn’t seem possible.  Four years ago he arrived in the US knowing almost nothing about the game.  Thanks to hard work and all kinds of God-given athletic ability, he played soccer throughout high school.  I’m very proud of him.  It was an honor to cheer for him and to pace the sidelines as his dad.

It feels like we’ve just hit one of those big “lasts” and I’m not sure I’m ready.  Every parent thinks their kids grow up too fast…but try adopting a 14 year-old and then tell me about your kids growing up too fast.  I’ve had my oldest son for four years and he’s already a Senior.  It’s mind-boggling.

This transition has me thinking about all the cool teenagers I’ve met at the Children’s Shelter of Cebu who have families now.  My son has me thinking about what I’d want to say to all the Remir’s, Janice’s, Victor’s and Roselyn’s (and on and on) that I’ve known at CSC.  The ones who were “older” when they were adopted.  I don’t entirely know what “older” means, but a lot of these kids came to the States and jumped right into middle school.  I guess that’s “older” when it comes to adoption.

Every one of you kids is amazing.  Amazing.  Sometimes your parents (like me) get credit for things that we don’t deserve.  People sometimes treat us like heroes because we chose to adopt kids who weren’t babies, because we adopted kids who were young adults.  They think we’re making a difference in the world because we added you to our families.  As if we chose you so we could make a difference in the world.  That’s not a good enough reason.  We chose you because you were just too cool to miss out on.  Maybe it took a step of faith for us, but sometimes people give credit to us when they aren’t giving enough to you.

You’re the heroes in my book.  You left everything you ever knew to go to a country that you couldn’t imagine.  You’ve made a transition that very few people can comprehend.  I try to imagine what you must have been thinking when you boarded the plane in Manila.  Wondering what your home would be like, how you’d fit with your parents and what all these new people would think of you.  I honestly can’t imagine facing that much unknown, and walking into it for the rest of my life.

I’d guess that sometimes you’d wish that you were adopted when you were younger.  That you wouldn’t have had to face the things you did in life.  That you’d speak English the same as everyone else and have memories with your family from before you started school.  I wouldn’t blame you for thinking any of these things, but I really believe you all came just in time.  You’re an example to all the people in your lives.  You’ve done so much to fit in, to catch up and to adjust.  You are a walking, talking testament to the hope of starting over.

Now you’re adopted.  You’re the pride of moms and dads like me.  You will be someone’s “ours” from now on.  I hope your lives are better because of us, but know this…ours are definitely better because of you.

The risk of “chick flicks”

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I can see now that I had been prepared for adoption long before we traveled to Cebu.  The preparation began before Theresa and I filled out any paperwork or had the first adoption conversation.  In fact, it began before I met her.  I can identify experiences from youth that shaped my idea of family.

It’s a little embarrassing to admit the first one that comes to mind.  I don’t know what I was thinking watching the movie Beaches, but my mom rented it. I was 14 and just starting high school.  I’m confident the moviemakers didn’t have 14 year-old boys in their target audience, but my mom never spent much time in front of a TV so I decided to sit and watch it with her.

At no time before or after have I watched a movie that jarred or depressed me more than that one.  The story follows two friends’ lives together: meeting, separating, reuniting.  There was this sense of life from beginning to end.  At least as far as I can remember, there’s no way I’m watching that movie a second time to confirm any of it.

The story made me think deeply about the paths people take and the brevity of life—maybe for the first time.  In the course of a couple hours I got the impression that one day you’re a kid and the next day you’re gone and there’s nothing you can do about it.

My mom could tell something was wrong, but I didn’t respond to her questions until later that night.  I can’t remember for sure, but I think I cried. I can still picture my mom sitting in my room trying to comfort me as I lamented how short and pointless life is.  I’m sure this didn’t help her impression of the value of watching television.

I must have been a joy to live with for the next few weeks, as I wrestled with the point of life.  At the dinner table, I announced that life is a meaningless cycle.  “You grow up and have kids so they can grow up and have kids and that’s all there is to it,” I explained.  No one knew what to say, but I was able to get my dad to agree and that seemed to satisfy me.  I wonder if they considered having me eat elsewhere for a while.

I want to be careful as I share that.  I certainly don’t feel that way about traditional families anymore.  Generations of family linked by DNA and upbringing is a profound and wonderful thing.  I simply find myself looking back and recognizing that I was being prepared to do family differently.  It is a comforting thing to know you were on a path long before you could see what was coming.  Funny how God works.  Amazing how long it can take to see what He had in mind all along.

Claiming an adjective

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We’re coming up on four years of “united” as this family of six.  In those four years, I haven’t exactly pinpointed whether or not I should define myself as an adoptive parent…or if I can drop the adjective and figure I’m just a parent.  Don’t get me wrong, there’s no such thing as “just” raising children.  What I mean is this: is parenting adopted kids a lot different than parenting biological ones?  Is parenting just parenting, regardless of how your kids come to you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

I think I know what you want to read.  I know what I would want to read: It’s all the same.  When you claim children as “mine” then nothing else matters.  It’s all about love, hope and forever.

It is about all those things, but I believe it isn’t that simple.

For most of these four years, Theresa and I have parented like most people parent: we took what our parents did, made some adjustments and got on the horse and started parenting.  We added some reading, and we took some required classes from our adoption agency, but we did most of that before we got our kids.  I’ve known lots of parents waiting to adopt their kids and have learned that a lot of that instruction goes in one ear and out the other.  At least it did with me.  People can tell you this, warn you about that, but there’s this “we’re going to make it work” certainty that can cloud some things over.  You need that certainty, but most of the time people assume their adoption will go fine–when there’s a chance it won’t.

Four years in, and I have to admit, our adoption has gone fine.  It’s gone better than fine.  I’ve seen us and our kids grow in countless ways.  We have not faced the kinds of trauma responses that can come into play.  I’m incredibly thankful.

Still, an opportunity we’d been hoping for came along this summer.  We were able to get two of our kids in to see a pair of impressive play therapists.  It has been unbelievably eye-opening.  Play is eye-opening, and I had no idea how much it can be.  In fact, they’ve been telling us that they’d rather have our kids play than talk.  Sure enough, we are learning things about our kids that are counter-intuitive to what our gut says.  Like someone smiling when they are getting in trouble.  Could you imagine a much more disrespectful response?  I can’t.  Talk about angering, but that unnatural response has roots in trauma…an anxiety response.  Suddenly that small bit of knowledge causes me to respond in an entirely different way.

Maybe adoptive parenting isn’t just like parenting.  Maybe it doesn’t have to be.  I’m okay with being a parent with an adjective in front of the title.  As long as I can cover that other ear quick enough to learn something.