Adoption Day

28 years ago today, at 9 am, my parent’s phone rang and they got the call they’d been waiting for. That afternoon, they loaded up my dad’s infamous Blazer and drove to Depelchin Children’s Center to pick me up – their adopted daughter. I was added to my brother (then 11) and my immediate family was completed.

It’s amazing to me how God work His master plan. Even without blood ties, my family and I are perfectly connected. I’ve always been a daddy’s girl and my mom has always been one of my best friends. In fact, my parents have walked that line between friend and parent better than anyone else I know.

My dad is the brilliant and surprisingly hilarious. He can crack a joke without cracking a smile that will slay an entire room. He taught me to drive when I was 11, out on the back roads by my grandmother’s farm. Have you ever been passed by a tractor? I have – and my dad was STILL telling me to slow down. He introduced me to Get Smart, and set me on a track that has developed into my sophisticated, finer sense of humor that we still share today. 

This is the man who helped me build an oil rig out of popsicle sticks and taught me to never throw anything away. No matter how far across the world he traveled for work, he always made it back for my dance recitals and birthdays. He was never able to teach me math, but he did teach me to honor the gifts that God gave me.  And he made certain that every guy who picked me up at his door for a date was going to treat me with the upmost respect. Because of my dad’s strength, I always readily accepted God as a father figure. 

This video is SO my dad. In fact, minus the sleeveless shirt, he basically owns all of these guy's wardrobe - including that exact Hawaiian shirt and phone belt clip. I couldn't have written this song better myself!

My mom was always my rock. She worked as hard as she could from home so that I never came home to an empty house. She taught me how to be a lady and how to stand my ground. She taught me how to wear makeup, how to walk in heels, and the importance of a signature scent. She was the original Proverbs 31 woman, hard working and full of tenderness towards her family.

I never once had to hesitate to call my mom – no matter the hour of night. Every phone call (even those made collect while I was at camp, when I needed to talk so bad that I couldn’t wait to go back to my room to find a quarter) was readily answered and rewarded by her heavy accent that sounded just like home. It was my mom who taught me to drive at 16 (we decided to preserve my dad’s heart and our relationship), who still does my hair for every special occasion, and who still tolerates my frequent borrowing of jewelry and makeup.

My parents gave me my love of reading. They read me bedtime stories until I knew them well enough to recite them on my own. My favorite was the story of my adoption, and they always told it with the greatest respect towards my biological mother and her sacrifice. Church was never to be missed, even when we were out of town. I have precious memories of hotel room communions and Bible verses.

My abilities were applauded and encouraged (my dad recently revealed a file cabinet drawer that contained every bit of writing I had done since elementary school) and my strength was never questioned. It is due to them that I have reached every success in my life.

And my new favorite part about my parents? Watching them bond with Larkin. 

 He and his grandpa are such good buddies, and he nearly dives out of my arms when dad walks in the door. When dad is in Dallas and calls home, Larkin’s favorite part of the evening is listening to grandpa talk over speaker phone. And sometimes I wonder if my mom isn’t even more proud of the little bit than I am! Gigi is pretty much his favorite person on Earth. They have showered him with love and affection, and are well on their way to spoiling him completely rotten. And they have been invaluable to me – starting with our first day home from the hospital when they rescued us at 4 am by taking Larkin and allowing us a bit of sleep, and a million blessed breaks that have followed.

I wasn’t born to my parents, but I was born for them. I thank God every day that 28 years ago, He paired up a family in want with a baby in need, and formed us.

Family Legacy

It's been a crazy week. My little monster has been keeping me in knots (see my last post). Besides his new crazy activity level, his sleep schedule that I so proudly bragged on (rookie mistake!) has been left in the dust. He still goes down like an angel at 7 pm - but then wakes up refreshed by 8:30 pm. Sigh. So that and these lovely Houston allergies have left me pretty wiped out.

But I'm so excited about the coming weekend. Despite how religious my family is, I've never in my life been to a Easter Sunday church service. Every year, my maternal family has a massive reunion in Anson (outside of Abilene). Family comes in from all over most of the southern US and we get caught up while some of the guys grill steaks and burgers for everyone. We have a big Easter egg hunt and the kids do battle to get the choicest eggs.

So we're getting all set for our four day weekend. We've got Larkin's Easter outfit ready, I put together his Easter basket today, and we're starting to get packed. Now, the logistics of surviving the road trip from Houston to Anson with a 6 month old who hates the car... well, I'm still bracing myself for that.

His Easter basket - how cute is that? No candy this year (sorry, buddy!) but he got some summer clothes, bubbles, a little tiger toy and a stuffed monkey that makes him giggle every time he sees it.

His new summer clothes!

I'm so excited to go this year because most of my extended family still haven't met Larkin yet. I can't wait to show him off and introduce him to his amazing family. My precious cousin had a little boy just two weeks after Larkin was born, and I can't wait for them (and the multitude of other little kiddos) to grow up together running around like we did.

This year will be hard because it will be the first reunion since my great uncle JD passed on. Since my dad's father passed away when I was about Larkin's age, JD was like a grandfather to me. He was an amazing man and a true hero - both military and just your average, everyday hero. I love and miss him daily, and it'll be hard not to be able to run into his strong arms. He passed away just a short time before Larkin was born, which broke my heart. I knew he wasn't doing well, but I had prayed that he would last until Easter so he could meet the little boy I was carrying.

I'm excited to attend the reunion for the first time as a parent. I see our family in such a different light now.  I am inspired by the memories of the family that has passed on, especially my great grandparents who started the entire clan that will be meeting together this weekend. When I was younger, I was always looking for my legacy. Something that I was good at, something that I could accomplish, something that people would see long after I was gone and remember me. After losing two friends way before their time, I heightened my efforts. I wondered if it would be my writing, my photography? What would make people remember me?

Now I realize how far off I was.

Larkin will never get to meet my great grandparents. He will never play with my Pops, be swung around by JD, or bounce on my granddad's knee. Jonathan's grandfather will never make him laugh. There are so many people that he'll never get to know. He will hear countless stories about these titans that went before him. He will know their names and their deeds. But most likely, his children will not know the details of their lives. They probably will not recognize the names Madie, Toad, and Bruce. Their children will know even less.

But they will know their legacy. They will know the spirit of their ancestors every time Larkin bows his head to pray over them. They will know the seeds that their family has sown so diligently and upon such fertile soil. When they see a healthy marriage, they will see the influence of my great grandparents, who loved so fiercely for so long. When they see the women of their family serving and smiling and the men leading and standing strong - they will know.

I realize now that the point of a legacy isn't to be remembered by name. What you leave behind should be more than a name. Books wither, letters crumble, paintings flake, photos fade. Names are forgotten. The spirit of Christ, the dedication of love and the strength of family - that is what lasts forever.