An Angel

Well, actually, he is stubborn, determined, full of character and a tiny social butterfly rather than silent, shy and submissive little angel. He lights up around crowds of people. In a hospital waiting room for example, he'll harrass anyone else who happens to be waiting with sly glances and little smiles and gurgling noises until they look at him and smile back and then it's on to the next one until he's worked his way through the whole room. When he really smiles, like full-blown-scrunched us nose-chubby dimpled cheeks-wide open mouth-sort of smile, he looks more like a little...ok, not quite like a little devil, but definately like a very michevious, fun-loving little boy rather than a little angel to be honest. Lately he has taken to smiling with his lips sucked in which makes his cheeks flop down and his eyes like tiny slits. While this may not attract too many ladies when he's older, it certainly is charming now. ;)

And I feel like I want to stop time. I want him to grow. I want him to stop. I want to capture every moment on film. Not even photos are good enough. I want to remember his voice when he was this small and his funny little movements and the multitude of faces he makes. His laugh that just seems to come from nowhere at the oddest times. Mostly while looking at me...but I don't take that too personally. ;)

"The Murder Of One"

I am not sure yet if I'll let her die. Or maybe she already has ceased to exist. You never know. I can't seem to find her anywhere. I look and look. I know the way she was, I know where she would be if she were still here. I know her so well but I don't recall the exact time she began to disappear, the moment she started to leave me. Was it in gradual degrees? A distancing so slight that it isn't even noticed until it is a wide, gaping void where once something bright and lovely existed? Was it in baby steps and silences never addressed? Words never spoken? Thoughts never shared? Was it when the courage failed and the daring stopped? Was it then that she left me? I don't think she would have liked to see me like this. I don't have much courage anymore. Maybe I compromised what I felt, believed, what I was, too many times until it was a compromise no longer and simply all that there was left. Maybe that's what it was, why she couldn't stay. Maybe I let her die already. Maybe I was responsible for something bright and lively receeding and diminishing until it couldn't possibly survive untarnished.

Tonight these are my thoughts on the nature of being human. On discovery and knowledge of self. On the beauty and pain of living.

She left me. She wouldn't recognize me now. But she will come back. She knows where to find me. I'm waiting. I'm actively hoping. Somewhere deep inside myself I know I haven't changed...I'm here still. There's nowhere I can go.

Smelling Of Milk And Tears

The other night Per came downstairs after putting William up to bed and casually asked "Do you think you can throw his sleeping bag in the laundry tomorrow because it kind of smells." Being an excellent conversationalist and seeing definite potential in this topic, I politely inquired, "What does it smell like?" "Umm, it smelled like milk. And tears."

I sat stunned, in horrified, guilty silence. It must have been the saddest statement I ever heard! To think that my sweet little baby boy had been crying so much at night that his little sleeping bag smelt of tears! I mean, honestly, how many tears does one have to cry until something reeks of them?! How awful, no, how heartless a person must one be to allow a tiny child to pass their nights in a tear scented sleeping bag?! Monster! For days I felt guilty and because of this brought the topic up whenever I possibly could, desperately trying to attain closure...

In the car a few days later while shaking my head unable to get such Dickinson imagry out of my head, still racked with remorse: "So...did it really smell like tears? I mean, what do tears smell like anyway? (Ever hopeful that the scent of tears had in fact been something else.) Like did it smell like salt?! Is that how you knew it was the smell of tears? I mean, does salt even smell? Let's check when we get home!"

Anyway, the days have passed and my guilt has lessened although I still feel a slight twinge or two when I consider the terrible pathos of a little angel falling asleep in something smelling of tears. In the futrue, I may well be compelled to do laundry more often. We'll see.

The Great Anticlimax of Christmas ?

The great creator of dissatisfaction: consumerism and materialism.

Consumerism and materialism in all their dazzling, empty glory simply lead to empty hearts and searching souls.

Empty hearts and searching souls create a sense of desperation.

Sometimes we look outward rather than inward. Though not at all bad in and of themselves, a beautifully decorated house, Christmas carols playing in the background, expensive heaps of presents under a glittering tree, the Christmas rush that people enjoy getting caught up in so as to avoid thinking of anything meaningful are all just ways to avoid preparing the spirit for what Christmas actually is. Though I also do all of the above, none of those things denote a readiness for Christmas.

I think the most beautiful Christmas Per and I have spent together was last year in Naples. It had none of the usual trappings of the season. We didn't have gifts with us, we didn't dress up specially, we weren't weighed down by tradition or stress or anybody elses expectations. Christams Eve rolled around quietly. We woke up in the morning in our little hotel room in a converted convent in the center of Naples and decided to go to Pompeii. I deliberated awhile over what to wear, I wanted something old being under the mistaken impression that after a couple thousand years the ash from Mount Vesuvius would still be hanging heavy in the air. Yeah I'm a dork sometimes. ;) So we walked out into Naples, sunny, clear and cool and found a crowded train to our destination. Got there, spent hours walking around, saw the remains of villas, pagan temples, frescos that even today retain their original colors, yellows, pinks, reds and purples. Snapped some pictures, felt sorry for the stray dogs, pensively regarded the great black volcano looming in the distance, sat in the solitude of this ancient place, soaked it in along with the sunshine and left again, relatively clean and definitely ash free.

Later when we were hungry, we roamed the dark streets looking for a restaurant that was open. We found a small family run place. There were two other couples there, one just finishing their meal and paying. They didn't have enough money apparently and there was a lot of arm waving, loud talking and laughing (nobody was upset or embarrassed) and the owner of the restaurant gestured to the people at the other table and sure enough they pulled out some money and covered the rest of the other couples meal, laughing and shaking their heads though it was obvious from their expressions they had no idea who these people were. :) We ate the most delicious food there, communicated in sign language with the owner which came in especially handy when I couldn't finish my meal, which was huge and delicious and it was obviously a great insult not to eat every bite. But I saved myself with a loud sigh and lots of patting my stomach with an exaggerated look of sorrow on my face at not being able to finish. I even waved my arms in the air awhile because well, no reason. We were in Italy! Anyway this sufficed and though not entirely pleased the owner smiled reluctantly and took my plate away and came back with a soccer ball which he started kicking around by our table while shooting expectant glances our way. We were duly impressed at his skill.;)

When we left it was very late, meals in Italy dragging on hour after lovely hour. Being almost time for midnight mass, we again roamed the streets this time looking for a church. Finally we found one that was open and we went in, were embraced by the warmth and soft light of an ancient church at midnight on Christmas Eve, one of the most holy nights of the year. The Italian mass flowed all around us, we watched children's faces shining, knelt and prayed that the coming year might be better than the past one. The peace of God was tangible and I thought that this is what Christmas is. Being here. Letting this mass be the focal point of our Christmas celebration.

And last year, there was no anticlimax. I guess there doesn't have to be one after all. I feel discouraged by how much possessions mean a lot of the time, but I guess that's one's personal choice. You can rush around being proud at how busy you are while avoiding most things meaningful or you can relax and be peaceful and enjoy every minute of a beautiful and joyful season.

Wishing you all a very happy Christmas this year!! :)

Love, C

Me @ Pompeii on Christmas Eve

And Then What Happened?

I'm sure that many have you have been biting your nails in suspense, anxiously wondering, so what happened?? Did William end up sleeping in the morning after the hand over in court after all...did he?! So heartless of me to have left that question unanswered for so very long as I am sure it's been first and foremost on your minds all this time. ;)

Well here we are, home for exactly three weeks today and to celebrate we took William to get an obligatory blood test at the hospital which on a 5 month old little person is not the easiest of things to accomplish and definitely not an easy thing to stand by and watch. One of the kind-hearted nurses actually cried and had to find someone else to do the test for her. I also had to have a needle or two myself this morning although no one but myself was moved to tears by that procedure. So both William and I braved the needle\ syringe this fine morning...anyone care to take a wild guess which of us is still whining about it now?;)

Here in the chilly Norwegian winter, it's hard to believe that it was only three weeks ago that we were walking as slowly as we possibly could due to the sweltering heat down Galle Road in Colombo, dodging the crowds with William in our arms and doing some very last minute shopping on our last full day in Sri Lanka. We had planned to go back to the serene beauty of the Mount Lavinia hotel afterward and indulge in a last evening of relaxation before our 12 hour flight with a four and a half month baby that would take us to London. Alas, this relaxation was not to be...

As soon as we arrived back at the hotel we discovered that we had to leave Mount Lavinia (where we'd been for about 4 and a half weeks) in a HUGE hurry...not for any criminal purposes as you may naturally suppose but because they had given our room to someone else on our last night there. So we had about an hour to pack an insane amount of the accumulated aftermath of prolonged travel messily into many bags and suitcases and then we were rushed madly to another hotel in Nagumbo for the night. Far from being the inconvenience it first seemed, it was actually a blessing in disguise. It allowed us to relax, to just take things easy. Nagumbo is an incredible and beautiful beach city and we just sat out on our little hotel terrasse overlooking this indescribably lovely beach, drinking arrack and coke and talking with Mohan well into the warm tropical night.

I feel so appreciative. I think that we were blessed and challenged in so many ways during our stay there. I feel thankful that we had this amazing, life altering opportunity...I know now that I would not have wanted things any other way.

So now we are home again and there is still so much to say. I'm by no means finished.;) But for this time at least, our adoption journey is complete. We did what we set out to do what feels like forever ago now. We watched as over time our feelings, ideas and perceptions; our relationship with each other; and our faith in God changed, grew, and expanded. We noticed and appreciate those who waited with us, not simply for us to be finished and thus to get on with our lives, :) but those whose support, love, interest, questions, and prayers make us so thankful that we are surrounded by love. By family and friends and friends who are family. We are so blessed. Thank God!