now and then

1971 2009

My children's birthmom

Twenty minutes ago I called my youngest 3 children's birthmom. My youngest son, age 18, was home on a four hour pass from the mental facility and we let them talk. She and I have been emailing for several months now, since the letter she sent me when she found us a few months back. Today is the first time we actually spoke. I always wanted to hate her. I can't. It is so different, hearing things from her perspective. She has the sweetest voice. I told her I wanted to hate her but that I couldn't. I thanked her for the lives and gift of my children. I blessed her and told her I loved her. We both cried.
When my son first got home tonight, his dad and I read a letter that his bmom had written to him this week. It was a beautiful letter. He got the biggest look of joy on his face. He wanted to talk with her. I found the number and dialed, then gave him the phone.
I pray this helps heal my son and his bmom. And us.
I wanted to throw up after the phone call because my son called her Mama, just like he calls me, and told her how much he loves her. He was 3 1/2 when he became our son. I tried to think of how to handle this. "You have two moms and we're not even gay!" I joked. My son laughed so hard! He is gay, and that just tickled him. I asked if he was okay, and he said yes. He said he doesn't feel so hurting.
Heavenly Father, please bless my son and heal him. Please give him strategies to deal with his mental illness of being bipolar so he can live on his own and have a good life. Bless us all, Lord. We are family.
Our son has the best sense of humor. We even make jokes about him being in the mental facility, about being "crazy," adoption, race. It probably sounds inappropriate to others, but sometimes he starts it, sometimes we do. Our family uses humor to get through hard things. We are also scarcastic - unfortunately, the kids get that from me and my husband.
So, tonight we fulfilled one of our son's dreams and made it through an adoptive parent's fear. It all turned out fine. God is good.

March and April 2009

Hali and Julie March 2009


Robin and Coralee 1988?

Sarah and Andrew in SF

Paul, golfing the weeds away!

My brother, George, April 2009 at Angel's Cafe in SF

week of feb. 18th Project 365

AT MICKIE GROVE ZOO, STOCKTON, CA

Project 365 Pictures last week of February 2009

I have watched the homeless sleep next to these grates on cold, rainy nights. There is no cover from the rain.

It always amazes me the amount of time and money tourists spend waiting for and paying for the short cable car rides. It is an historical part of SF's history, but not the real SF at all!

My brother has cancer. These are just some of the meds he takes several times daily. Thousands of dollars worth of pills monthly. Praise God for insurance.

Two of my brothers and two nephews about five years ago. The brother in the middle has the cancer. We are now raising the youngest boy. Life changes in a minute.

This is an old, old newspaper page from the Contra Costa Times in Contra Costa County, CA. It contains my birth announcement. The coolest part is, the girl who has been my bestest friend since we were 13 (we are now 55) is on the same page, as is a guy I dated in High School. Fate!

scrapbook challenge

Project 365

I am doing the "Project 365" from Creating Keepsakes. I am taking pictures weekly, rather than daily, though to journal my year. Here are some pictures I took today at Mickie Grove Zoo and Park where my friend, Chauntae, and I took our kids:

The younger kids looking at animals

Buds on a tree

This one is the reflection of a tree in the pond:

Layouts, pictures ROUGH DRAFT

...and in the end

At 18,

coming of age in a group home,

is just not the same.

Blow-ups, blow-outs are met with restraints, police, and visits to mental hospitals.

Being held down

as the staff jams a calming injection into the arm.

Injections that make you slur words, shake, and sleep.

Even less freedom than before.

Choices are even more forced.

Free-will is non-existant.

No future.

No fun.