July 18th, 2009.

(From Greg)

As I write this here in East Tennessee at 11:00 in the morning, on the other side of the world the clock has rolled over and a new day has begun in Taiwan. It is July the 18th and at some point today my daughter Claire will turn two years old.

I was born on October 30th, 1974 a little after 7:00 in the morning. I know this because for years my mom would call me early in the morning on my birthday every year and give me the old "do you know what I was doing at this time 27 years ago???" line. I never knew what to say... "Um... I give up. Were you screaming and cussing out dad?"

Smart alec answers aside, I always appreciated my mom's early morning calls on my birthday... it told me how much she loved me and that not only was the day of my birth worth celebrating but even the moment of my birth was worth remembering. Sure, it's a small thing but a large collection of small things is how a person comes to know that they are loved.

I will probably never know the exact moment of Claire's birth. I'll never know if it was morning, afternoon, or evening... if the sky was sunny or clouded... who witnessed her emergence into this world... what her first moments with her birth mother were like... these things will remain a mystery to me. Adoption is a wonderful thing with a lot to celebrate but there is plenty to mourn as well. When our daughter comes home it will be easy to focus on all that we have gained... but let us not forget all we have lost.

Claire has now lived two years of her life being bounced around between orphanages and a foster home. As far as she can tell, she has no mother and no father... just caregivers who randomly seem to come and go. Hopefully they are kind to her. I wonder if she loves them... I wonder if they love her. I wonder when she spoke her first word and what it was. Did anyone even hear? Did anyone care? When she took her first steps, did anyone even notice?
I'm thinking of all of the treasured moments of Connor's first two years of life... first words, first laughs, learning to crawl and then walk, his first time going down a slide, and his first time dipping his toes in the ocean. I cherish every one of those memories. I know that a lifetime of memories with Claire are ahead of us as well and I know that there is so much joy to come but that future joy for now is tinged with the sadness of all that we have lost.
Even as I sit here now and think about these things, I have to remember that for as much as I have lost, Claire will have lost even more. As our plane lifts off from Taiwan to journey over the ocean and back home to Tennessee, our little girl will be saying goodbye to every single thing she has ever known. Her friends... her caregivers... her bed... her favorite foods... her language... her homeland... gone.

I don't know what our first days with our new daughter will be like but I do know that she is going to be grieving all that she has lost. I don't know how she is going to do this... some adopted children rage and lash out while others simply withdraw and go quiet. Who could blame them? I am praying even now that we will be equipped to comfort her... to help her through the transition into her new life. How will we do this.... the words of comfort she would understand can only be spoken in a language we do not know. God grant us patience, peace, and wisdom.

So, today my daughter turns two. I have no idea what this day will hold for her... I like to imagine that her foster family in Taiwan will have a celebration. Maybe some of her friends from pre-school will come over and there will be cake and ice cream... perhaps they will sing a song to her and she will end up with icing all over her face. Maybe she will celebrate... or maybe it will be just another day. Like so many other things, I will probably never know.

Here in Tennessee, we celebrated Claire's birthday by having a garage sale. We've spent the last week emptying closets and drawers... shelves and storage tubs. I've never seen so much stuff in our garage and hopefully all of it will be sold. All of the money we make today is going towards buying Claire's bedroom furniture. Connor is sitting at a table selling brownies and drinks with a sign that says "Snacks for my Sissy". Claire is heavy on all of our minds today but we're keeping busy... moving forward... wading our way through this wait the only way we know how. We're a little sad but also incredibly hopeful and excited. We know that next year we will celebrate this day very differently. It's going to be an incredible party... we'll have a lot of lost time to make up for. I can't wait.