The Parcel

Hello Blogville friends! Welcome back, it is so nice to see you. This morning I am drinking a chamomile tea as I write to you. As an adopted person I feel it is important to open up a dialogue about adoption topics (and sometimes other topics too) that impact on so many of us.

So about a week ago one of my cousins messaged me on Facebook and said, “I’m going through some of my Mom’s pictures, I have quite a few of your parents, many were taken when Mom visited with them. Would you like the pictures?” Yes, I’d love to have them.

They arrived today, my heart thudded as I saw a package poking out of my mailbox. The mail carrier had popped it in there having no idea that it contained such history. The history of one little family. The history of a happy, hopeful couple meeting, falling in love, marrying and planning their family.

I messaged my cousin, thanking her for the kind gesture of gathering and sending the photos. I also told her I was about to open the package and sob my face off. She noted that she can relate as she has done her share of sobbing while going through her mother’s “treasures”.

The mail carrier was not aware that the package held the story of young newlyweds. Later, the happy photos disguising reality as their hope and joy turned to grief with each new miscarriage. Each loss harder than the last. One would think their despair might have made the package even heavier. Those young people never lost the wish to become parents that led them to an adoption journey. The love in this package reduced it’s weight!

Carefully I snipped and pulled my way through the massive amount of protective tape my cousin had bound the package with. Clearly she wanted the photos to make the journey between her home and mine safely. It worked!

I caught my breath as out slid a wonderfully preserved photo of mom and dad when they got engaged. Their eyes were filled with excitement and the promise of a lifetime together. They celebrated over 50 years of marriage until death, indeed, parted them.

There is also a picture of my dad with his only brother. In the photo my uncle is in his army uniform and dad stands uncomfortably beside him in a suit. My dad never got over not being able to serve his country. He carried his rejection papers (bad eyesight and flat feet) tucked away in his wallet until he passed away. Always prepared to show that he wanted, and tried, to serve but was refused.

One photo of my dad posing with his thriving vegetable garden sent me reeling. I can still feel the warmth of the sun on my shoulders and back as we weeded together. I remember my fingers cramping from picking off potato bugs! My dad would proudly show me tiny shoots of green that would later yield edibles like peas or tomatoes. Nothing tasted better than vegetables from his garden. My dad gardened well into his 70s.

Photos of my brother and I as little ones, then as teens, and finally as adults transported me back to a time when I could feel their love for us, like a warm blanket. My parents dreamed of raising children and when nature betrayed them, undaunted, they chose a different route. Being adopted never changed the fact that these were my parents. Parenting isn’t all about giving life, it’s about giving a life!

As I look through photo after photo I am repeatedly reminded of their strong sense of family. Landmark anniversary photos are filled with dozens of guests, mostly family members from near and far, coming together in celebration of their love and commitment to each other. More and more photos transporting me back in time.

Tucked around the tissue box and spread out on my chair is evidence that true love does exist. Photos of friends and relatives living life with all of its hopes, celebrations, disappointments, gatherings, vacations, and faces that say more than ‘cheese’ surrounding me. It all feels like just a flash, this ‘slide show’ of my life.

Though I am transported back in time, I am also seeing into the future. I see a time when my grandchildren will one day look back at our old photos (though likely digitally enhanced or gathered on their cell phones) and they too will feel the infinite love of family!

Thank you my dear cousin, for sending me this love-filled parcel. This has been a heartfelt walk through memory lane, knowing how much I was loved.

Thank you so much for visiting with me today. I so enjoy your company and I hope you enjoy my stories. As always, feel free to comment here or send me an e-mail at [email protected]. Remember, you can follow me on Goodreads and be the first to get new blog post notifications. See you next time.