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I wish I could say “I knew I loved you from the moment I saw you“. If I did, I would then have to admit the real truth. On the day we met – the day that I first held you – what I remember most was fear. Not run-for-your-life fear, but something close to that. There you were, this tiny creature whose head barely fit in the palm of my hand and I – a man almost 35 times your size – was like a kid scared and trembling in the dark.
I’m no activist—certainly not the kind to lay down in the middle of the street to be carried off by the police. I applaud those who are, those whose courage and tenacity in acts of civil disobedience have furthered causes for which there would not otherwise be a voice. I find myself instead as the quiet protestor—the guy who simply by his existence, without saying a word, takes a stance against the disease of ignorance and homophobia in his daily life. Read the rest of this entry »
We’re both a little weary this morning after the last few eventful days. On Wednesday, September 1, Social Services reversed the decision of the workers involved in the case and determined that it was premature clinically and legally, to move the show cause forward. There would be no TPR hearing in the near future. Read the rest of this entry »
And what of us—what kind of life will we find when our family is down to three. How will I wake each day and not expect to hear T’s voice or his running footsteps. What will it mean to again, just have one child in the house. Read the rest of this entry »
My son is not like me
He is brown, I am not
We are not alike that way
We stand in the mirror together with our difference
Sometimes it’s hard to seex
Our infant son is now eight months. He seems to be smiling all the time these days. I don’t even have to look at him. The other day I caught him sitting in his Bumbo looking out the window and cheesing at what, I don’t know. It makes me wonder, what kind of little person he will be. He’s begun to be much more boisterous and loud. He seems to like the sound of his own deep baritone voice. Unlike the pretty almost angelic voice of his older brother, Lucas sounds more like a little Fat Albert—Hey, hey, hey! I wonder if I’m going to have a four year old trundling around the grocery store, calling after me in this deep manly-man voice—Hey Papa! I guess the benefits of the baritone voice is that unlike T who can let rip an ear-piercing screech, Lucas will never be able to reach those OMG make it go away octaves. Read the rest of this entry »
We drove to the courthouse in separate cars.
We found parking fairly easily.
We walked to the courhouse separately. Juan arrived before me and was standing outside waiting.
We passed through the metal detectors. I managed to forget that my Nano iPod was in my dress-shirt pocket. iPods/mp3 players are not allowed. The detector did not go off. Read the rest of this entry »
“C is for cookie that’s good enough for me….”
C is for cookie or cat or car…or court. Today we are in court once again. It has been a long road—these last twenty-eight months. I haven’t had the inspiration or maybe it’s the emotion to write anything about what today’s hearing means for our little family. In some ways that is good, in that I am not drowning in fear or sadness that our foster son’s departure is eminent, but also I don’t feel particularly hopeful either—maybe also, not such a good thing. Maybe it’s ambivalence—not that I don’t care—but just a sense that there is no wide swing of emotions attached to this day.
At almost two months old, he is irresistible. As I look down at that face, I can’t help myself. I make silly noises hoping that he responds. He does more frequently now. He seems to know my voice—at least he has become familiar with it. I am the bearer of food, of kisses, the over-squeezing-cuddling-pappa-love. Read the rest of this entry »