Mika Diary – Pt II

In 2000 when I loaded all my belongings into a twenty-foot truck with my car in tow and headed to Washington, D.C., Mika was there.  She rode in the cab for the four days and the nineteen states it took to get us there.  Looking back it seems like it would have been a lonely trip, but it wasn’t.  I had lots of music and Miss Mika who sat next to me in the cab.  The first night we pulled into a motel in Montana that allowed pets.  I found that the rooms they stuck us in were always smelly and a little dirty.  Neither Mika nor I were smelly or dirty.  For the rest of the trip I decided to take my father’s advice.  Being an active RV-ing senior, he knows all of the travel tricks.  He told me that lots of RVs pull into Wal-Mart parking lots at night while they are on the road.  The stores are usually located off the interstate and Wal-Mart encourages the practice of RVs overnighting in their parking lots.  All those visiting seniors then go shopping the next day.  Everybody wins.

Wordless Wednesday – The Saving Graces

Memories of brothers who shared a passion for flashing lights and blaring sirens

Certain Heroism

I expect that in about three months our son will be gone—reunited with his biological family.  I ‘m not sure what this means for our family.  For now, we turn again to our beloved little four year-old and begin the process of thinking about how to help him make this transition.  It’s time for his foster parents to put away sorrow for the moment and have adult conversations about the next few months. 

Peeling paint

Between two Federal buildings there’s a tunnel built in the 1930s.  It enables employees to travel from one building to the other without having to cross a multi-lane thoroughfare.  One day while dashing to a meeting, I noticed one of my fellow employees standing midway through the tunnel, a small pile of debris at his feet.  With his fingers he was slowly peeling paint from the walls where it had bubbled and split open as water leaked down from the surface streets.  I was struck at how odd, slightly chilling and a little freakish this image of the government worker literally peeling paint off of the walls was.  I left a short time later after realizing that that agency embraced the paint peelers and all flavor of the unnatural and the bizarre.

One-one-one-one-one

Another court date is upon us.  This is the hearing meant to replace the one back in December where several parties were no-shows; which was meant to replace the one back in October where the court didn’t properly schedule the hearing; that replaces the one in September where none of the parties could agree—this hearing, to replace all of the others, is happening today, January 11.  If anyone is late or absent, no excuse will suffice.  Not that anyone should ever have an excuse for not showing at a hearing given the gravity of the situation, but this time no one can forget the date: one-one-one-one-one.

How many?

 

I am number four of six children born to my parents between 1953 and 1966.  While having that many children today may seem a little wacky, I remember families in my old neighborhood that had even more.  Child bearing was very different back then.  Back in the day, the really odd family was the one down the street with the only child.  As Darrow and I began down this road together, I often wondered just how many children would cross our threshold.  I still have this romantic image of the two of us in this big old house bursting at the seams with little ones. 

December

It’s time to pull out the Christmas music once again.  Each year I stash it in the same place on a bookshelf, knowing that inevitably we will be listening to Diana Ross’ off-key Silver Bells, Nat King Cole’s classic White Christmas and the Vince Guaraldi’s sound track to A Charlie Brown Christmas.  December another holiday favorite, is a collection of somber but beautiful piano pieces by George Winston.  Originally recorded in 1982, it is the backdrop to a lot of my holiday memories growing up.  It makes me wonder why this particular holiday can take on such a sad tone especially in music.  Christmas is supposed to be about presents, and good cheer, and Santa, but somehow it can just as easily take a poignant and melancholy turn. 

National Adoption Day – The Great Equalizer

 

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. 

Hair

I thought I would try another wordless Wednesday

—though I can never be completely wordless. 

One of the features that distinguishes the boys is their hair 

—it’s part of what makes them fabulous. 

Semantics

Yesterday was another hearing in family court.  My expectations were low.  I no longer walk into these things hoping for the best.  I can’t.  Experience has taught me to expect the worst.  The failures of the system and the people who function within in it are unimaginable to the outside world.  If I wasn’t living it, I wouldn’t have believed this story myself. 

In this episode, I anticipated that information would be misrepresented, that people would do as little as possible and the court would send everyone back home with nothing but another court date.  We would then have another few months to ponder our future.  Yes, I sound bitter and sort of hopeless, but I consider myself only jaded and mildly discouraged.  It’s semantics, but it helps to avoid the disappointment.