Of all the worries that happen along this path, what might happen to my children tops the list.
This week, I read about a fifteen-year-old Florida boy, Davion Only. He was born to a mother who was in jail, then spent his life in the foster care system. He is currently living in a group home with 12 other boys, and understandably had anger issues and bad grades in school.
Recently, he decided to take control of his life. Though his circumstances remained the same, he worked on his anger issues and dramatically improved his grades. Still, he wanted a family, someone who would love him for the rest of his life. So he stood up in church, in a borrowed suit, and asked for what he wanted.
“I’ll take anyone,” Only said during his speech, his hands sweating. “Old or young, dad or mom, black, white, purple. I don’t care. And I would be really appreciative. The best I could be.”
As someone who wholeheartedly feels that there is always room at the table for one more, this pushed all my buttons. My heart expanded as I thought of him making these big personal changes on his own, when it is hard enough for me to make personal changes even with support and someone who believes in me. I was pulled toward his initiative, his appreciation for what he may be given, and my belief that every person and certainly every child deserves someone who loves them. The systems are not set up for love and caring.
And it is there that I worry about my boys. I hope that, if there is ever a time that I cannot be here for them, the world will take care of them. I like to think that we take care of each other, but, as Davion’s story shows, that doesn’t happen easily.
He simply wants what so many of us have and take for granted: To be loved, and to have someone to love.
I think about how one of our sons, though internally driven to practice gymnastics, still sneaks a look here and there to confirm that I am watching him. I know that our other son is smart but does much better schoolwork if I simply sit next to him as he works. Knowing that we matter to another person helps us each to be our best self.
Taking care of each other seems like the biggest honor on earth right now. I so wish that we could provide Davion with a forever family, and hope that whoever is lucky enough to adopt him feels like it is an honor as well.
That feeling of honor often gets lost in our daily noise. But after we turn out the lights at night, I love listening to the boys talking together before they fall asleep.
“Do you think that Lance will be in gymnastics after his concussion?”
“It is dangerous to do gymnastics with a concussion.”
“He is pretty good. He might be able to do it.”*
It warms my heart beyond words to feel their connection with each other, and I am reminded that it is an honor and blessing that I get to be part of it all.
Each person I am able to help provides no less of an honor and blessing. I hope that you feel blessed for all the help you have given to me and my family, as I know that I feel blessed when I have the opportunity to help as well.
*Lance didn’t actually have a concussion after all. Whew.
All who know you are blessed, MCP. I would say more, but I can’t – my eyes are too watery… XO
PS – nope, no concussion, just a cool shiner. 😉
Mrs. Miller, our lives have a whole new rich dimension since you and your family became part of it. Blessings all around!
So beautiful. Thanks. Just thanks.
Marie, this one left me in tears.
You are navigating your journey in the most empowering and inspiring of ways.
You are, truly, a wonder.
___ Anna Huckabee Tull Life Coaching and Song Crafting CustomCraftedSongs.com 86 Farmer’s Cliff Road Concord, MA 01742 (978) 254-5836
If you could commission a song about anything…what would it be?
Thank you for sharing this Marie
Just echoing the others here: it’s humbling to read your insights. When traveling, a skilled tour guide helps you uncover and see the significance in what would otherwise be just an old house, or a pretty bay (“See, there? That’s where Odysseus would have pulled his ships onto the beach.” and “Melville sat at that desk there, the one on the landing, every night while writing Moby Dick”). I cherish you not only as a friend, but as a tour guide into the human condition: “See this emotion? It’s love. And this one, when your boy looks at you like that? It’s joy, and beauty.” Thank you for helping us all to see these things!
David, I hear your voice in your writing and I love that. It is like being right there with you. Love you guys.
Perfectly said: Marie, beloved friend and our tour guide into the human condition. Thanks to both of you!
Marie, You always inspire me. I try to imagine people who have no-one and it is impossible. To never have a little one depend on you and hug you would be like death to me. The worry and reponsibility can overwhelm at times but overall, making people’s lives better is what it is all about. Thanks for your contribution in that area! jan
Marie, I read this a couple of days ago and have been processing your words ever since. I often pray that the world will take care of my kiddos and that they will always take care of each other. Davion’s story is beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. This post really touched me in a way that I can’t even put into words.
Karen, That is something, when YOU can’t put it into words. You are able to put so many feelings into words that make us all feel. Thank you.
xoxo thank you for the warmest hospitality. Pittsburgh is quiet. Miss you already, xoD
Ti voglio tanto bene, carissima. Sei sempre nel mio cuore.