As I write this my elderly beagle and our new dog are snuggled up on the sofa together. The beagle is kind of a bossy jerk, so the fact that he lets the new dog press up against him is huge! I bathed the dogs this morning so they smell sweet and their hides are extra shiny and sleek. Their coat colors are complimentary and they look so cozy curled up on the couch.
It is cloudy and humid today and the roses and sweet broom in our yard are almost neon against the gloom.
I spent the morning sorting through the mountains of paper that seem to accumulate when you have a school-aged child. So many assignments! So much artwork! I recycle some and put some in a drawer for safe keeping and for future display on our family room gallery wall.
I check my email and my adoption forums, but not with the urgency I did over weeks past. The emigration process has started--now I just wait my turn. It is a relief to know the gears are in motion, and I am looking forward to my friends' receiving their travel calls.
I look through all the pictures we have of YH and watch videos of him. I marvel over his recent bang trim, over his winning smile. I fret over his latest developmental report--trying to read between the lines. I double check his most recent measurements against multiple growth charts (preemie, WHO, Korean Boys). I start a letter to Mrs. S and have to stop when I realize there are no words to adequately capture how much gratitude I feel for her.
I am at peace with our adoption process today. I have to be, because I have no emotional reserves to spare.
I am not checking my phone because I am afraid there will be messages waiting for me. Messages about a family crisis. One that happened (again) on Monday night. Someone I love is struggling with addiction and right now addiction is winning.
I can't change or control this person's process. I know this. I know to "let go and let God". I know that all I can do is support the people around me--are my parents ok? Is my loved one's partner ok? If my loved one's partner can't call for emergency services, I will. I will suck it up and tend to the people left hurting in the wake of my loved one's decisions. I will not "fix" anything, or clean up after my loved one, or excuse my loved one's actions/choices.
I will send a text every morning and afternoon. It will say, "I love you. Be kind to yourself. Let me know if you need a ride to a meeting." No judgement, no threats, no bargaining. I will not get a response. I know better than to expect one (but secretly I hope).
Another day. Another obligation to hold it together for my husband, my kids, my parents, my siblings, my friends.