Kelly as a Diplomat

I finally was able to talk to Kelly this evening.  She has had a busy couple of days and had run out of cell phone minutes.

Yesterday was her day to wade through all of the red tape that goes along with international adoption.  Needless to say she had several opportunities to practice her diplomatic skills.....

I won't go into the mind-numbing details, but there was a lot of waiting, a locked embassy door, phone calls to Midland, TX to our adoption agency to make some calls on our behalf to get the consular to open up, lots of paperwork, first the copies Kelly took over with her and then the originals (after the orphanage's teacher rented a motor scooter to get the file over to the embassy), more waiting and finally a submitted Form I-600 and Form I-864.  We still have more paperwork to file (most notably the case history from the Ministry of Health), but nothing more we can file until adoptions in Liberia start moving again.  There's also some form called a DS230 that we need to download and fill out.

Kelly has definitely learned about the "unstructured" way things work in Africa.

Kalee's fever subsided and he has had a good couple of days.  Amos' had a similar bug overnight.  Kelly's quite certain she's next.  So pray for health for all of them.

Brant has had a blast being a big brother to Amos and Kalee.  Lots of basketball, soccer, super balls, frisbee, watercolor paints, drawing, movies, etc.  (Brant was at the Spirit Liberia house with them from 8am to 4pm while Kelly was out being a diplomat.)

During the 2 hour lunch break that the embassy personnel took yesterday, Kelly was able to get out and explore Monrovia.  She shopped and bought Liberian clothing for all 7 of us.  We will have a fashion show with pictures when she gets home.  She also continues to be amazed at the throngs of people everywhere in Monrovia.  She even said that if the buildings were taller, it would remind her of NYC with all of the hustle and bustle.  Instead, all of the buildings are only a couple of stories tall and are all falling down.  She said the destruction from the war is everywhere and that there are young children everywhere on the streets.

Everybody was at the orphanage today.  Highlight was the spaghetti and sausage and fresh fruit feast co-sponsored by the Bolithos and us.  The kids all loved the food and Kelly said she took a bunch more pictures of everybody.

The big news is that it looks like the kids will be moved into the new orphanage building Saturday evening.  Praise God!  Pray for the move and that everything would go smoothly.  Brant was at the new orphanage site painting this afternoon/evening.

Well.....I think those are the highlights.  Thank you all for your prayers, thoughts and notes.

From "Pa in America"

Kelly and I were only able to talk for 2 minutes today because she was running out of minutes on her prepaid card:

• Kalee has a fever.  Kelly said he's hotter than anybody she's ever felt.  Pumping him full of ibuprofen and keeping an eye on malaria.  She said he sat in a chair at the orphanage and cried a lot.  Please pray for him.
• The security guard at the house came in and had a long conversation in Liberian English with Amos.  Kelly couldn't understand a word of it.  She said it was like the Vietnamese ladies at the nail salon.  After they finished talking, Kelly asked Amos what the security guard was asking him and he said that the guard wanted to know where Amos' Pa is.  Amos said, "In America!"  More music to my ears....if only I had such great music among the 2,834 songs on my iPod.
• Tomorrow is Kelly's meeting at the U.S. Embassy with the Consular.  She will be filing some paperwork (I-600 and I-864)....unfortunately nothing that will speed up our cases but at least it is some little bit of something we can get done while we wait.

(We squeezed a lot of news into two minutes of prepaid cellular time.....)

On the homefront, we did receive our renewal from USCIS......we're still "approved" (Form 171H) to adopt 2 males aged 3 to 10 up until January 23, 2011.  Hopefully it won't take that long........

Hello Papa!!!!!!

Music to my ears.   The very best kind of music.  After months and months of wondering what Amos and Kalee sound like, I finally got to speak to them on the phone today.  Amos was on first and sang, "Hello, Papa!!!!!"  Incredible.  Sweet.  Music.

What do you say to your sons that you've never even met?  My mind was racing.  I was finally able to come up with some chit chat, mostly guy stuff about soccer/football and basketball.  Apparently, Brant is already coaching them on the finer points of basketball as the house where they are staying has a hoop.  We are very blessed to have this house for Kelly and Brant and Amos and Kalee to stay in....it is an American missionary's house and they are on furlough, so 4/7 of our family has moved right in for the week.  Amos and Kalee are able to stay there in relative comfort compared to their usual crowded orphanage surroundings.

Amos was more talkative than Kalee.  All I could get Kalee to say was "Yes", even to questions that were not "Yes/No".  It sounds like they have had a great day.....lots of drawing and coloring and playing and soccer and basketball.  Pizza for lunch....two slices apiece.  Chicken stir fry for dinner.

Kelly and Brant promise that they are taking lots of pictures....they are going to hang out at the orphanage again tomorrow.

I'm already looking forward to tomorrow's phone call.......

Trip Update #1

This is Drew.....I've hijacked Kelly's blog because she can't get an internet connection over there.  I just got off the phone with her.  After 27 hours of traveling yesterday, she and Brant finally met Amos and Kalee this morning.  Kalee was waiting at the front gate of the orphanage property for her this morning and Amos wasn't far behind.  Long, busy day at the orphanage with lots of soccer and Captain Underpants (a.k.a. Brant) did his thing and handed out the nearly 800 pairs of undies he had collected.  Thank you to all who supported the undie drive.....it was very much appreciated by the kids and staff!  It is amazing to me that Kelly and 3 of my sons (2 of whom I haven't met yet) are an ocean away.  I'm looking forward to getting to talk to them over the phone tomorrow.  They have shared their first meal together.....Spaghetti-Os......doesn't sound like Chef Boyardee has quite won them over yet......Kelly says they'd much rather have the fish stew they had for lunch.  Kelly will be hitting the market tomorrow to get the "good food".   Thank you for all of your prayers and support!  Keep the prayers coming!

Out the door---

I'm packed up and heading out with Brant (and all that underwear!) in a little while.  Drew is taking us to the airport in one city and then driving several hours to pick up Will who is returning from VT in another.

I remember now why I don't do a bunch of traveling.   My brain gets overwhelmed with all the little details......and I kinda get in to a tail spin.   But that's a different post for a different day.

Today, I'm feeling caught somewhere between memories of going a first date and delivering my first baby.   You know....lots of wondering what things are going to be like......and if I can do it.....

Will Amos and Kalee like me?  

Can I be witty and entertaining enough to suit them?  

What are their personalities like?   Their voices? 

Will they know who I am when they see me?

Will they hold my hand?

I'll let you know.....

Brant's Orphan Undie Update

 752  pairs........and counting......

Good times......

Drew is in Minnesota on business. 

Brant is in Florida on fun.

Will is in Vermont doing who knows what, without a lot of supervision BUT with his own debit card. 

That leaves me and Jay to hold down the fort here at the house.  We are almost never home alone together---and certainly not for days at a stretch---so we are making the most of it.

• One morning we slept in and stayed in our pjs, playing UNO until noon....then ate lunch out at Jimmy John's.   
  
• One morning we got up early to eat breakfast at Waffle House (and marveled how much time we had to play UNO afterwards because we hadn't slept in).
  
• Today we started with a game of UNO, had a bagel at Panera,  followed by a trip to Dick's for new batting gloves, a hair cut, some mom errands and then, wrapped up the afternoon with an early dinner at Carrabba's.

I definitely saw the pattern emerging early in the week.   With Brant and Will gone, Babe wanted to exert his authority by playing what HE wanted to play and choosing HIS favorite places to eat out.    So, I let him.  Heck, it's hard being the baby of the family.  Trust me.

The result has been surprising.  Who knew Jay could be so talkative?  We've had some great, uninterrupted conversations.   Just me and him.   Freckle to freckle.   Seeing Jay across the table, or across the UNO pile,  is almost like looking back in time at me.....in oh....1977.

Nothing, however---- nothing--- Jay and I have done this week, has been more fun than playing old school wiffle ball in the driveway.   In a nod to a simpler time when we'd wile away the early afternoon hours waiting for the big boys to get off the school bus, we pulled out the orange plastic bat and put out the rubber bases.     

Back in the day, we batted off a tee....Jay was 4 or 5.   I'd  get a hit and jog slowly to first base so Babe could make the play.   Sometimes I'd throw in a little indignant arguing when he called me out, just for realistic effect.   When he batted, I'd bobble my catches as he raced around the bases.   We'd laugh and laugh.  Jay loved it and I loved playing it with him---it was our game.

Nowadays,  Jay gives me extra pitches, bats left-handed "to be fair" and......he's the one taking his time going after the ball.   I'm jogging more slowly for real these days.   And I'm not just feigning indignant arguments anymore.   But still, we laugh and laugh.

Though he wouldn't admit it to me,  Jay, an emerging gentleman, let me win our first wiffle ball game.  He oooohed at the "bombs" I was hitting.  He acted impressed with my batting stance.  He coached me to be patient and wait on the ball.    When I pitched, he told me I had a good splitter......even though I didn't mean to throw a splitter.   

When I won, I danced and celebrated and I gloated to the rest of the boys, texting the monumental news: 

MOM BEATS BABE 6--0 in DRIVEWAY WIFFLE ROUT    

Jay let me enjoy the glory and then later, as we said good night, he gave me a squeeze and said,  "You're the one that got me started loving baseball, Mom."  

Wow.   Thanks, Babe.   

Put another W in my win column.

Undies for Orphans

Brant sent out an APB to just about every one he knows asking for donations of new underwear for the children at Addy's Hope.   

His letter is below.   

I can't wait to see what God is going to do through this sweet boy and this project.

Dear friends and family--

My mom and I are traveling to Liberia in two weeks to meet my new brothers and do some work on their new orphanage that's being built outside Monrovia.You probably know that the Liberian president has suspended adoptions several times over the last 18 months and we don't know when we'll get to bring Amos and Kalee home, but we are still going to help out where we can and to spend time with the new guys.

By going without the usual birthday presents, my brother, Jay, and his friend, Josh, collected about 125 pairs of kids underwear at their birthday party last fall.    I would love to collect that many more to deliver to the orphanage when I go and was wondering if you might consider picking up a pack or two of kids underwear to donate the next time you are at the store.    None of these 50 kids have the advantages that I do and it's sad that they don't even have their own pair of underwear.    If they do happen to have a pair, they are sometimes only mere pieces of cloth that are pinned together. Getting new underwear would be a huge help to these kids......I can't even imagine being a little kid and not having any to put on.

The orphans at Addy's Hope are small because they are malnourished, so any boys or girls underwear sizes 2-8 would be great!!   My mom and I would be glad to come by and pick them up, just call us, or you can run them by here if you are in the neighborhood.   I would appreciate the help and I am sure that the kids will appreciate the underwear!   Mom and I depart early on Saturday, July 25th. 

If you'd like to read about the orphanage building project, you can go to www.futurefororphans.comThere's a cool story there about how Will and his Calvary classmates raised a ton of money for the well at the orphanage.   And here is a recent picture of Amos and Kalee---you can see that their condition is not the best.   Please keep praying that Amos and Kalee won't get sick, that Liberia will pass new adoption laws and that we can bring the boys home soon.

Thanks A Lot!

Brant

I'm packing my bags....

.........and on Saturday, July 25th  I am flying out to meet Amos and Kalee in Liberia.  

I'm taking Brant this trip......and.....we're just going.   I need to go.   The opportunity came up, the timing worked out.....I couldn't generate any reasons not to go.     

We'll connect on the way with two other adoptive parents and various volunteers making up a crew to finish work on the new Addy's Hope orphanage.   B is going to help out with construction at least part of the time we're there, but the only commitments, the only promises I have made--- are to Amos and Kalee.

I am going to be with them every possible minute I can be.  

So true....

A farmer I read about recently was quoted as saying, "Money can't buy love---or home grown tomatoes."

Standing over the sink just now, eating one of Jay's first beauties still warm with sunshine.....I couldn't imagine any truer words.   Or any better eating.

No resolution in sight.....

Sadly, the news we've gotten lately about our adoption is not very encouraging.   The Liberian government has yet to pass new legislation regulating the care and adoption of its thousands and thousands of orphans.    There is no recent movement in the Liberian house or senate....and no bills on the floor for passage.   Adoptions remain closed in Liberia as they have been since January.  

Even though a Liberian judge signed a court degree that named me and Drew Amos's and Kalee's legal parents last September, we can't take custody of them and bring them home until those new laws are passed.  

Our adoption agency, unable to process adoptions to generate fees,  is out of money and can not meet payroll for the staff at the orphanage.   I'm not sure what the conditions are like there now or how-- or to what extent--- the 50 children there are being fed.   

I just know that Amos and Kalee need to come home to me and Drew......and to our houseful of boys and love......to our pantry full of food.....to clean drinking water......new clothes and beds.....and to the bins of Matchbox cars and soccer balls waiting just for them.

Fireworks on the 4th

Happy 4th!

Today is a distinctly American holiday---one of my very favorites.  I practically bleed red, white and blue, so you can bet that the stars and stripes are out in full force at my place. 

Even with a pool party, picnic and fireworks on tap, I can't help but be reminded of my Liberian boys and, an ocean away, the Liberian flag that flies over their orphanage.   

I see the Liberian 

lone star everywhere in decorations I've had 15 years or more.  I could swear Uncle Sam is even holding a Liberian flag.

If you haven't read the "Meant to Be" post in the sidebar on the left, I hope you will.   

The story behind that quilt and what it represents to our family just might give you goose bumps.   

It does me.

Diagnosis: OLD

Basically, that's what my new optometrist, who can't be more than.....oh.... 22....told me after my eye exam this morning.   In her most chipper voice, she told me my vision problems were nothing to worry about, just a part of the normal aging process.   (Oh, thanks, doctor.  I feel so much better. )  

It was at this point, I could have sworn I caught her examining my crows feet and sizing up my age spots with the magnifying glass when she was supposed to be evaluating my retinas.

At any rate, as our visit went on, Dr. Chipper explained that I probably could get away with dime store reading glasses and  wouldn't need bi-focals for another few years....until I'm a little closer to 50.  (She had definitely gotten a good look at my age spots.)

Then....as she waited for my eyes to dilate---and with the sensitivity of a rock---she blathered on and on about my mature eyes, incidental sun exposure and my potential risk of developing glaucoma and cataracts. 

Surely, I thought, my eyesight isn't my only sense that's in decline.   My hearing must be failing me, too.   Was this recent grad of The Doogie Howser School of Optometry actually talking to (forever young and hip)  ME??

My brain fritzed ever-so-briefly and....just for a tiny, little, un-Christ-like nano-second....I saw myself jumping up from the vinyl-clad exam chair, whipping off my disposable sunglasses  and soundly decking her (and her youthful skin and sharp, clear eyes) right then and there.  

Oh......if only I had been able to see her well enough to take good aim.....

The Boys of Summer

Babe is catching for Southwest Forsyth's 12-year old All-Star team this summer. They scored a whopping 29 runs over the weekend to win the first two games of the district tournament.    Play resumes Friday night v. Winston-Salem Nationals.

What was I thinking??

Maybe it's a result of all the time I spend staring at this computer screen trying to conjure up something blog-worthy to write about, I'm not sure, but clearly I must be operating under some sort of diminished brain function.

I have to be.   I just put my 13-year old son, Will, on a plane to a music camp in Vermont.   

Yes, Vermont!    I know it's 900 miles away----not that I could readily identify it on the US map, what with me being very southern and it being above the Mason-Dixon line and all, but I'm trusting Mapquest on this detail.   It's far away.

He's flying all by himself.    Him and his new wallet and super-official state picture id....and all those hand held electronics he just couldn't live without (and can never afford to replace if he leaves them all in the seatback pocket in front of him).   

And you don't even know the worst of it yet.   Brace yourself.    He'll be gone an.......an.........entire month.  (I was whispering that last part...it's just too outrageous for me to say outloud in cyberspace where all you responsible parents are hanging out to hear me.)   

I have really gone and done it this time..... 

Four whole weeks without seeing that beautiful boy???   I'm done for.

No amount of communication via the aforementioned handheld electronic devices will ever be enough.   I'm sure of it.

(Sniff. Sniff.)

Anybody wanna go to Vermont??

No such thing as luck

The doctor who did Brant's surgery today told me afterwards that he thought Brant was a very lucky guy.

You see, the wrist tendon that Brant severed is one of two that allow the wrist to flex up and down---important for teenage boys who play guitar.   And baseball.  The tendon also covers the biggest nerve that runs down the arm and controls feeling to most parts of the hand and fingers.   And that nerve covers the major artery that supplies blood to the hand.

The doctor said that had the glass gone just a fraction deeper, Brant would have been permanently disabled, assuming he survived the blood loss, of course.

I wasn't bold enough to say it to the fancy-pants surgeon---evangelical dim-witted-ness comes with 6-hour stints in hospital waiting rooms I can now attest----but I know that luck had absolutely nothing to do with the outcome of Brant's accident and subsequent surgery.   God, in his sovereignty, had every thing to do with it.

Not for the squeamish...

Just as the summer haze has settled here on my blog, dust was starting to collect and readership was dropping to all-time lows, Brant and a garage door window pane have stepped up to provide some exciting blog-worthy fodder with that can't-help-but-look photo to boot.

Drew and I were over in Cary Sunday evening.....alone, holding hands, enjoying a perfect beverage and celebrating Flag Day with Elvis Costello---any excuse for an outdoor concert, I say----when, just 5 songs into the first set, do we get a frantic text from Will.

Generally speaking, FRANTIC usually finds me in person or over a landline telephone, but as I embrace new technologies, FRANTIC has proven it is completely capable of finding me via Verizon and it's world's largest and most reliable network. Will's urgent text went something like this:

"We R takin B 2 the hospital.

Call back ASAP.

HURRY. HURRY."

Those all-caps kind of messages are just the kind that make a mother's heart drop to her flip flops......and her mind race to figure out who "we" is and what scenario could have possibly played out to warrant a trip to the ER this time.

Since Brant doesn't have his license yet, I was fairly confident he wasn't in a car accident......so, what then??

Had he been hit by someone else driving another car? Not likely on our quiet cul-de-sac.

Could he have gotten knocked out playing football/basketball/wiffle ball/cops & robbers with friends? Maybe....but it was more likely that, with B's size, he'd be the one doing the knocking out......

Was there some sort of cooking accident? I couldn't envision how microwaving a Hot Pocket could end very badly....well....for Brant any way. (In 2005, Will once microwaved a Hot Pocket for 14 minutes, though I've gotten very good at suppressing that memory. PLUS, the text didn't mention a melting microwave interior or a smoky charred dinner brick of any sort.)

Had B been electrocuted by my hair dryer (which, BTW, I always really, really DO mean to remove from its precarious home near the sink where B brushes his teeth)??? Hmmmm.....THIS was a definite possibility.

Finally, whilst running to the parking lot, I got Will on the line and he gave me the gory details....

During an energetic game of wall ball with neighborhood buds, Brant had run full-speed into our garage door where broken glass from a window pane made a mess of his left forearm. Will was with an adult neighbor and the neighbor's friend---who just happened to be a nurse----on the way to our county hospital. Will used excited and graphic phrases like "cut wide open" and "to the bone" along with helpful adjectives like "gross" and "really bloody."

The nurse-friend (aka, "Complete Stranger") assured me that Brant was okay and conscious; he was likely in shock, but alert. She says Brant will get good care where they're going, but no one will be able to handle this injury in the ER and he'll probably be admitted for surgery.

What????? I immediately called my friend Kris to go be with Brant. I could count on her to take charge of the situation, assess things and hold Brant's (other) hand until I could get there.

By the time Drew and I winged in on 2 wheels around 10 o'clock, every body involved had determined that, in deed, no doctor there or on call was the right one for the job. Hands are tricky, apparently and no one wants to touch them if they don't have to.

So.......after a quick interlude precipitated only by my embarrassing, woozy swooning and cold sweats.....the attending doc stitched up Brant as best he could and sent us home. A hand specialist will do the official honors on Wednesday.

Rangers Win Little League Championship!

Yahoo!  Babe's Little League team racked up both the Majors' regular season and tournament championships this week.   The Rangers worked hard all spring, were great sports, encouraged each other and in the end, proved they deserved to win it all.   

And, if you ask me, the coaching wasn't half-bad either.

A very, happy Mother's Day

They're Not Booing.....they're yelling Bruuuuuuce.

I spent the night with Bruce Springsteen.   And 10,000 other people at the Greensboro Coliseum. 

It was so great.  So, SO great.   

Picture Bruce, on center stage, looking awesome, wearing all black.  (Silly, inconsequential wife, Patty, at home, banged up after a fall from a horse.) And sure, Bruce was talking some whack liberal politics, but hey---I'm able to ignore all that.....because he's playing all OUR songs....just for me.    Me....on the 89th row.....in my khaki mom capris.  

I plotted all week about how I could run off with him afterwards....just chuck it all and live on the road.   Hang with the band.  I admit it.  I can't help it.   After all....we'd shared so much at Fan Camp.     

I'd even warned friends beforehand that if I was AWOL for a few days....they shouldn't worry. I'd be in touch from New Jersey as soon as possible with my new address-- for the country ham deliveries.

In the end, though....I couldn't face leaving my sweet Drew and my sweet little life here.

But still.....I do...just sometimes, for a little while....like to think about, dream about.....what it would have been like had Bruce pulled me up on stage all Courtney-Cox-Dancing-in-the-Dark-style....

   

Sigh.

Love those sweet faces...

One Shining Moment.....

NORTH CAROLINA  89
Michigan State 72

Mars and Venus parent

Never have Drew's and my parenting styles been so glaringly at odds than THIS past week.

Brant's girl, Ellie, has had a change of heart and though she says she loves B to death....she doesn't want to be in a relationship with him. Brant was caught off guard by this unexpected break up on Friday and so....it seemed time for me to amp up my game and jump in with all my best mothering know how.

I gave Brant plenty of opportunity to talk about how he was feeling. I tried to be sympathetic, but reassuring. I spent lots of time rubbing his back, giving him hugs and saying things like, "It's okay to be sad, Brant. It's completely normal to feel down. I know how much this hurts....you feel misled. You weren't expecting this. It all has nothing to do with you, I'm sure. You're the best. "

And just like June Cleaver would do, I served up B's favorite foods, let him shoot hoops for hours....told him that every thing would work out and that his heart would be okay after awhile.

Drew?  Drew gave it till Monday morning, then strode around the house in his boxers, singing at the TOP of his lungs, something that went like this:

"Go and get another one. Go and get another one.

There's a better one out there somewhere. 

So (dramatic flourishes here), JUST...GO....and get another one."

Ahh.....the male coping strategy in all its glory. 

Could men and women be ANY more different?

Look who we found...

The boys named him Bill. 

(Long story. Tell ya later.)

If, per chance, you need a sweet kitten named Bill, just say the word and he's yours.

Really.    The boys will adjust.

How DO you spell that???

Back in February, Will placed 4th in our school district spelling bee and so had the privilege of competing at the regional ACSI Spelling Bee down in Atlanta. After a ton of prepwork and hours of drilling by his freakily competitive mother (who has obviously never gotten over misspelling MARTYR in the Charlotte, NC Scribbs district bee of 1978), Will was humming along and on a roll....

That is, until the 7th round, when that pesky word describing "a person that specializes in aerodynamics" was called. I'm sure you all know an aerodynamicist....doesn't every one?

Oh well, Will, NO worries. Dad and I are completely proud of you, now that our palms have dried out, and lest you ever doubt it, just refer to that new Merriam-Webster's Dictionary we hooked you up with. Because at our house, nothing says loving like a big book of words.

Welcome home, Melyn!

Our friends, Beth and Terry, just got back from China with their sweet new daughter, Melyn. We joined the welcoming party at the airport for a neat night of celebration.

Beth and Terry felt led to adopt and accepted the referral for Melyn at almost the exact time Drew and I accepted Amos's and Kalee's referrals in December 2007. Beth and I have propped each other up over the last 15 months and to have someone close by who knows exactly how I feel about the waiting....and about all those questions that don't have answers, has been a complete comfort to me.

Fear can keep people from doing the things that they know are right and that God calls them to do. Life at a certain point can get really comfortable---helping the poor and the widowed and the orphaned is any thing but. I can't wait to see how God blesses Beth and Terry for getting past their fears and reaching out to love an abandoned little girl that will now come to know that God is her true father.

Just a couple more....

In these pictures you can see Amos and Kalee as they are each read a note from me and see snapshots of themselves, probably for the first time.

Jay complained at me about the cards I chose for them.  One sounded too mushy, one not mushy enough.

Yeah, well....Jaybird.....when Hallmark starts making cards for the sons you've never met, who are stranded in an orphanage 3000 miles away, surviving on boiled eggs and rice, I'll be the first in line to buy them.  I promise.

   

More great pix of the new boys!

Snow Day

Parenting is not for sissies.

I've always felt deep down  that hatred and prejudice are learned, not innate, traits  so it was important to me and to Drew that we do our best to raise color-blind kids, something I hope we've done a decent job of.     

Back before we started the adoption process, I could say with fair certainty that our boys could not fathom that a person could be judged solely by their skin color.   This was something that they had only read about---something that had happened in our country's past or something that might happen somewhere else to someone else's family members.

Since we've been in process, Drew and I have tried to anticipate and talk through situations that our family might face once Amos and Kalee are here.  I  want Brant, Will and Jay to be prepared for the questions we might get, the looks...the double takes.....the reactions....the lack of understanding....changes in relationships.

 

But as much as I want the boys to be ready---I hate to see another layer of their sweet, sweet innocence stripped away.   It is hard and painful and embarrassing for me to have to share with them what our society is really like----to say out loud that prejudice is alive and well....and not just somewhere else in the world, but alive and well and thriving all around us.

Our youngest boy, Jay, overheard a phone conversation Drew and I had earlier in the week. We are considering a local move to put us closer to school, church and Drew's office and one of the houses we are checking out is located directly across from one of the big country clubs in town.

I could tell Drew was getting a little excited just thinking about being able to walk to the golf course and tennis courts....and well, the boys and I have been known to become pool rats in the summer months.......so....the proximity makes this house very tempting.   As we talked about what membership to such a club might cost, Drew quietly mentioned that we'd need to ask around and check the club policies.   It's a possibility that blacks---or white parents of black children---might not be allowed, errr......invited to join.

I'll spare you my indignant rant, but Jay's went something like this:

"WHAT????" 

"In 2009??"

"Are you SERIOUS??"

"With a black President???"

"You have GOT to be kidding me!"   

Any thing I managed to stammer out couldn't even begin to explain to Jay why things are the way that they are.  In fact, every thing I said sounded completely ridiculous------Jay's disbelief and indignation were completely founded.  There's no explaining away ignorance.

But sitting in on his school's chapel service commemorating Black History Month today really cemented for me why Jay is feeling so confused.    Through the litany of poems and speeches and biographical sketches, it became clear that he's been taught and is being taught that racism and segregation are things of America's past history.   He'd already filed them in his 5th grade brain as "Done" and "Over" ----that is, until the country club membership came up.  Then myth collided with reality.

I wish I could keep Jay and his brothers innocent forever.  I do.  I wish I could shield them from injustice and unfairness.    I wish I could encourage Jay to believe every thing his teachers say and what the textbooks print in black and white.  I wish our world was the way he believed it was.

I will continue to pray that someday it might be.  I'll pray that God will change hearts and attitudes.   I'll encourage sweet, Baby Jay to pray with me.  And for now, I hope he will file racism and segregation away in the "To Change--Someday" part of his brain....