Wednesday, January 6, 2016

The Extraordinary Ordinary

The extraordinary ordinary1

“We think of details as daily and mundane. Even miracles are mundane happenings that an awakened mind can see in a fantastic way.” Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg 

Sometimes all it takes is a change up in our every day to see things in a new way. Mr S’s visit has been that change up for me. Suddenly, I’m looking at my life through a new lens.

Over the Christmas break, we were watching my eldest’s kindergarten graduation video. The graduation is a big event each year, as each class, graduating and non-graduating alike, take part in a performance, which is held in a rented high school auditorium. This summer, both boys performed and both the graduate and the performer were thrilled to see themselves on film.

All of us sat on the floor in my parents’ house, crowded around my laptop, watching the performance one night. (My mom was, of course, there too because Grandma likes things like this.) My oldest was lounging across me and everyone was laughing, pointing out the different funny parts. (There was much excitement because the DVD starts off with people entering into the auditorium and Miss Thing’s leg had a cameo). At one point, I glanced over and saw Mr. S looking at my son. He was looking hard.

I had to wonder what he was thinking.

There was nothing particularly special about that moment. It was just a family being a family.

And then I realized – everything about that moment was special.

It was a family being a family.

Mr. S lives with a foster family; there are other children in the home. From everything I’ve heard and seen, he is a loved and cared for little boy. 

But that doesn’t change the fact that he is still a child in need of a forever home.

He needs a permanent place to belong. He needs a family that doesn’t have a qualifier as part of its name.

For most of us, families are the most screwed up, messed up people we know and that’s even before they’re “complicated.” How do we know they are screwed up and messed up? Because we are one of them.

We had a memorial service to honor my 100-year-old Nana last week.  

It was a reminder that we are a screwed up and messed up people and that we love each other – in
spite of – and because of it.

I pray that Mr. S finds a messy, less than perfect, man do we wish we had it more together, family to join. I wish for him family vacations where people fight and Christmases where someone scorches the rolls and Easters where the dog pilfers the chocolates from the baskets while everyone is a church.

I wish him the heartache and maddening happiness that comes from having other people in your life that you can’t control or shake loose.

I wish for him a family.  

***If you think you might be the just right family for Mr. S, please contact Meredith@gwca.org.***

The extraordinary ordinary2

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