Cleaning Closets, Assigning Prominence to Warm Fuzzies

I'm soooo totally psychedelic-ed that my little niece and nephew (and bro and sis-in-law) will be visiting soon... and for the MANY visits with our oldest despite the miles between us.

We adore them and the feeling is mutual.  Love abounds.  (selah)
Oh, happy sigh, and big smile!!!

I'm prepping the rooms they'll be staying in for their visit... and because summer allows extra project time, I've dug into some projects I'd planned to start... one... cleaning out closets.

At the BOTTOM of one of those closets I've stumbled across all the crappy paperwork from legal proceedings courtesy of our adoptee's false allegations.

There is a BIG part of me that wants to throw all those documents away... but there is a little part of me that wants to keep them... for my sanity.

The details of all the heartache RAD brings to our family are so incredulous... so stranger-than-fiction I want to keep the documentation so I'll know I didn't imagine it all.  

I struggled (about 2 seconds) within myself that holding on to those papers might possibly be a "sign" I've not forgiven our beloved adoptees.

I struggled back with the realization that I've made the DECISION to forgive them, and am diligent to work on FEELINGS of unforgiveness when they arise, continually renewing reaffirming my decision to forgive our adopted children for the pain their illness inflicts on us... and themselves. 

Still... our daughter's a mental illness fights reality... it fights her sanity... her Reactive Attachment Disorder remains the key obstacle in our relationship.

My not-so-little-box of legal documents remind me this RAD nightmare is real... not manufactured by us as our adoptee would insist.

The question is... where can I store them?  Yes, those documents are valuable... they're important, but they don't foster "warm fuzzies."   I'm cleaning out my closet... yes, I'm moving those papers... I won't be loosing those papers.  

I'll be tucking the painful papers away... in a less prominent place and making room for the abundant art abounding with love that our extremely creative oldest daughter, and nieces and nephews continually shower us with. 

Little Couple Adoption

Adoption continues to be a "storyline" that captivates the hearts of so many.

My hubby and I are cheering for The Little Couple as they seek to share their experiences, and love adopting special needs children whom they already LOVE long before they have ever met them.

Isn't Will ADORABLE???

After raising our special-needs-adopted-half-bio-sibling-group to (what is appearing to be their RADtypical) adulthood, my hubby and I are enjoying fond memories of the early adoptive years while watching the enthusiasm, the wonder, the joy, the adventure of building their family through adoption... This couple reminds us of our younger selves... eager to share every good thing with their children, whom they are eager to meet, but have already committed to love from the bottom of their hearts, and care for with all the means they have.

It seems like this exceedingly intelligent couple is somewhat knowledgeable about Attachment Disorder.  I've heard it mentioned a few times as I watch.   I cringe a bit... as brilliant, professional Dr. Mom proclaims that with some children adopted out of similar circumstances attachment could be a problem, but it's obvious because their son has been so quickly affectionate with them he CLEARLY has no attachment issues.  Hmmm...

At the same time, I don't want to for a minute awaken them from this dreamy wonderland where their hearts are truly overflowing as their family expands with one, and soon, two already beloved children. As I watch, I'm hopeful, prayerful, that it will be different for them than it has been for us.   I want them to have the beautiful years... I just don't want RAD to come crashing into their happily ever after.

After all, how can the cuddly affection of "our new" child be a sign of an attachment issue? (Any "expert" that doubts the sincerity of this heaven-sent little angel's affection MUST be a quack!!! ...right?)

Anyone who hasn't really experienced Reactive Attachment Disorder... will NEVER fully understand.

Children ARE absolutely a delight... and what a blessing it is to have them, to love them, to raise them.  Almost any parent knows how quickly we'd sacrifice ourselves to prevent our beloved children from experiencing the slightest pains.    As real parents we find out there's almost never an option for us to bear our child's hurts instead of watching them suffer.

Adoptive children come to us with a long history of pain that we simply cannot-no-matter-how-much-we-want-to take for them.  Often our children have lived through  the horrors (whatever they may have been) that has caused them to be separated from their "first family" and we simply could not have protected them... usually we were not there. 

In reality, if the adopted child had been fully protected they never would have lost their first family... and however many caregivers filled the gap until adoptive family could raise them.

For the adopted child, adoption is always loss.

However the first family was "lost" there is always the "knowledge" to the core of their being they don't belong.  I've read in Nancy Verrier's   Coming Home to Self: The Adopted Child Grows Up   the concept that the mirror "betrays" the adopted child... and even though it's not politically correct to discuss the ways an adopted child genetically is very different from the family they are adopted into, the child has this sense to the core that they don't "really" belong.  That phenomenon is no reflection what-so-ever of how much parents want, love, care for the adopted child... but it can be mis-percieved by the adoptee to be "evidence" of how the adopted parent's never accepted, loved, cared for, the adopted child.

In chatting with various adult adoptees, I've found the sentiment of not "feeling" like they belong to be quite present... and I've recommended Verrier's book as a good place to explore issues quite common to adopted adults. 

I've recently had the opportunity to meet and work alongside a senior citizen adoptee... adopted out of an American orphanage... back when orphanages was where orphaned children were cared for in these United States, until adoption.

I've heard those who have benefited from this personable-service-driven-adult-adoptee's dedication and diligent labors comment how "he's always told us we are his family."

*Sigh*

I've not had the opportunity to ask what his relationship is/was like with his adoptive family after he reached adulthood.

As I continue to strive to understand all that is going on in the hearts and minds of our adoptees, I continue to meet and speak with adoptees of all ages... the one common thread I see is... regardless of age, there appears to be a lifelong effort to continually try to define and redefine who their "REAL" family is... because it appears it remains a life-long struggle for the individuals who I've had the privilege of speaking with.

I also am privileged to share strength and hope with other adoptive parents.

One delightful dedicated adoptive momma who was instructing me how critical it is for ALL adopted individuals to maintain ties to birth family... yeah, I'm not a fan of cookie cutter answers... I'm thrilled that appears to be working in her circumstances, but in reality she's still in the thick of it all... her kids are young.  She got a bit quiet when I told her our placed for adoption-daughter, disrupted to be with her-not their bio-father,  was murdered at 18 years old during a visit to our kid's birth mom.

There's no cookie cutter solution, no One-Size-Fits-All answers.  I can't pretend for a minute to know what's best.  If anyone had asked me during the "Beautiful Years" I'd have sworn I was indeed an expert. 

Meanwhile... I watch the adoption storylines on tv, Reality-television, and scripted shows... The Little Couple, Giuliana and Bill, Gene Simmons' Family, Patty Stanger, Parenthood, etc etc etc... with great interest, amazed how optimistic I remain, as so many adoption storied unfold on TV through reality and scripted television shows. 

I can't say for a minute I'd want my family's story on TV, but I've found great strength and encouragement through the blogs of awesome adoptive parents...

While I'd never wish the suffering related to RAD on any family, I'm so-very-grateful to know we're not alone in the adventures of loving our adoptees, despite how the pain of their Attachment Disorder continues to hurt them and us. 

RAD on TV

Ha ha ha,

I saw this commercial for Daisy Sour Cream, and in it parents are visiting another family, and the mom asks, "What's our son doing in the Bennet family portrait?"

"What's our Son Doing in the Bennet Family portrait?"

Without missing a beat I said "He's got RAD!"

Hubby and I laughed hard.

Gee if only we had known it was the sour cream!

Hope you are all well!!!

Hubby Continues to Find Support in Awesome Places

Hubby signed up for a study of Pastor Tony Evan's book, Kingdom Man.

 First week was introduction where the men each shared a little bit about who they are.  Uncharacteristically, during introductions, hubby mentioned he currently struggles with troubles brought into our lives courtesy our adult adoptees, their behaviors as young adults exactly matching the symptoms list of the mental illness diagnosed years earlier when they were first placed with us.  That same night, after that first meeting, an "elderly gentleman" in his 70's quietly said he needed to talk... it turns out he is also an adoptive father, 20 years ahead of our experience, and now grandfather to many of his adopted daughter's multiple children, by many different men.

Hubby came home encouraged.   He is not alone in this journey.

Week after week Hubby was eager to "do his homework" for the class... loving the contents of the book, and the fellowship among men who were studying this book with him.

Several, quiet conversations afterwards with the more experienced adoptive father were definitely a bonus.

Fast forward to the last class... where this group of men who had been coming together to share their experiences, their hopes and struggles in walking out Kingdom values as men in our culture, time to say goodbye.

Hubby has a "ministry" not for profit, not for tax deduction, it's something he's good at,  enjoys doing that benefits others... and he offers his services to whomever could be blessed by computer repair.  His "day job" pays way more than his repair work ever could... but he loves to have his hands in electronics troubleshooting and repairing.  We decided long ago "charging" for services to earn a profit robbed the family of time, because his "overtime" computer repair work earned far less than minimum wage... and he was doing it more as a hobby.  It became obvious that the average person who needs computer repairs finds the repairs to be quite expensive... and would be blessed if hubby "donated" his services tinkering to repair their computers.  The joys associated with working to serve the Lord is worth so much more than any money hubby might earn from dedicating the bulk of his time off towards tinkering on his financially unprofitable passion. 

At the last class, when the men were saying goodbye to the other men they had bared their hearts to regarding life... my hubby described his "ministry" and passed out a business card with his full name and contact info on it.

One man came up to him... and apologized. 

Outside of this class, my husband didn't know this man... at all.

Outside this class, this man knew OF my husband, but didn't know until he saw the name... my husband was a man he'd heard MUCH about. 

You see... this man was a neighbor to our adult-daughter's "rescue mommy" ... this man worked at a "christian" business with our adult RAD. 

This man couldn't figure out why our daughter, an adult, lived with a senior citizen couple that was not her own parents.

When he asked what was up with the very strange living arrangements... our daughter gave him ears full... of RAD garbage.

He spent endless hours trying to "counsel" our daughter how to handle her "plight"... to the point his wife was wondering if our daughter was "the other woman."

Before this class... this man had no idea who my husband was... but through this class... as the men shared the burdens of their heart to serve God honorably in all they do... this man got to really know my husband.

This man saw the card, saw my husbands full name, and immediately identified "the stories" as stories about my husband.  This man apologized, profusely for his involvement in our family.  He apologized for being so easily duped.

He apologized.  From out of nowhere.  We weren't even aware he'd "meddled" at all... we didn't even know he existed.  We're grateful truth was revealed to his heart.  We're grateful he stepped forward to make things right.

We continue to pray for all who have been duped into believing the lies, manipulations, and triangulations of Reactive Attachment Disorder.  We pray they'd be convicted of their wrongs, and heartfully sorry, not condemned forever for their unwitting evils... see... he... like most involved... really believed he was helping... until truth was revealed.

Lord have mercy!

Don't Let Grief Steal Your Days

Today is a day of significance for our family... courtesy of adoption... and so today, for a little while... I'm allowing myself to grieve what Reactive Attachment Disorder continues to steal, from our adopted kids, and our family.

It is fast approaching 4 years after our adoptees' RADtypical meltdown and attack against us.  This year our "Adoption Day" anniversary had passed more than a month before I realized it had come, and gone.   I kind of consider that progress.  I kind of am surprised.  I had always treasured that date... the date of the beginning of our dreams come true.  That date, after RAD attacked, became a source of pain... and this year, it passed without anticipation, or remembrance.  It just passed...  We were busy, and having fun... and honestly didn't notice.  It wasn't an active effort to try and forget the date... I actually intended to honor that date.  It simply passed, unnoticed.

Quite a while ago, Hubby and I had a counselor suggest we schedule dates and times to grieve, so our adoption grief could be honored and expressed without robbing us of the pleasures available to us in every day life.

I was very surprised when my first "appointed day" for grieving arrived and I didn't "feel like" mourning... I was having too much fun.  Our counselor explained that was the point... "If the day arrives, and you don't feel like grieving, you don't have to..."  It seemed like her point was to not let grief steal our days.


Back when "scheduled grief" was prescribed... I giggled (a lot) as I envisioned how I might grieve who our living children had become.  I imagined myself dressed in black with a shawl and a hankie... mourning.

The days where overwhelming sadness would flatten me, I'd tell myself, this isn't the day nor time to mourn, but I will, at the appropriate time... then I'd begin imagining what that would look like... and start giggling again.

During my planning grief gigglefests decided I'd someday "light a candle" when the time to grieve arose.  I was raised in a denomination where one could put coins in a box and pay to "light a candle" for prayer intentions.  I remember my mom tearfully lighting candles for her prayer intentions, as we'd visit older churches that still had the red-glass votives.  As I got older, the candles became electric push button and the price to ignite was listed in dollars... I'd always found the concept that a paid candle would pray for me to be a bit weird, but when I envisioned what grief should look like... those candles were part of  the picture... even though they make me giggle.  

That same year for Christmas I got an OLD brass and red glass votive from a friend who had a knack for finding treasures and glitzing them up to make holiday gifts for friends who are dear to her.  Perfect!!!  Not perfect for my decorating style... not even my holiday decorating... but perfect as my grief candle.  I removed the holiday embellishments and set it up for our kids. 

I've placed the candle on my front entry table as a reminder when grief comes, there is a time to grieve, and when the time comes I'll do so... if I feel like it.  And I smile.

Today is the anniversary of a day of significance regarding our adoption... a formerly celebratory day, but a day I'd set to grieve if need be.  Today grief fits, not for the full day... It's a day my hubby and I have decided to celebrate with or without our beloved adoptees.

... And we WILL celebrate today...

                       but for this morning... 

for this mourning... 

I've lit a candle.