The Circle of Life

It's been a year now since Suzi lost her husband, Jeff. Death is non-discriminatory and you never expect it, even when you know it's coming. It's always a shock. Jeff and Suzi adopted two children with A Labor of Love. They are both beautiful girls and they have struggled with the loss of their father as well. They are almost 8 and 12. They are, like typical kids, involved in many activities. They keep Suzi on her toes running them to dance class, brownies, piano and swimming lessons, and 4H club. That part is good, because it likely keeps Suzi busy and focused on that a good portion of the time. It makes me sad that Jeff, after going through the adoption process with his wife, and having been blessed by his girls, was not able to be here longer to enjoy watching them grow and blossom. Suzi misses him terribly, but is putting one foot in front of the other for the girls.

Before that, another of our families lost a husband and father. Brent was a reservist who was called up unexpectedly to go to Iraq. He did his duty and, while working, was killed by a roadside bomb. His wife, Marilyn, and young son were left behind to mourn his death and to try to move forward. Brent and Marilyn had been waiting to adopt. Sometimes our lives take a turn we didn't plan on and we find ourselves in unfamiliar territory wondering how we got there. None of us know where we will be or what we'll be doing five years from now (or if we'll even be here at all). We like to think we know, but really no one can predict what events will change our lives. When Mark and Karen adopted, they had no idea that Karen would be raising their child as a single Mom, or that adopting a child together would somehow make it a little easier for Karen to get up in the morning and do what she had to do. Over the years, probably a dozen of our adoptive parents have lost spouses. Kathy, an adoptive Mom of two, had moved with her husband Ron to a large ranch in the mid-west -- a great place to raise their kids. She couldn't know that she'd be running the ranch without Ron one day.

I like to believe that there is a lesson and a moral to every story. I guess the lesson here is that we just need to cherish every moment and enjoy each day we have with those we love and let them know how important they are to us, because we have a limited time together. The world as we know it tends to stop when someone we care about passes. And then, like Springtime, life tends to come full circle. A baby is born and the world seems meaningful and hopeful again. Babies have a way of doing that. They heal your heart. Have you ever seen an elderly person around a baby? Their eyes light up and they sparkle and they have a reason to be animated. Everything feels new again.

There is something magical about anything baby. A few years ago, when my daughter was younger, we went outside in the Summer and there were very tiny (and I mean tiny) praying mantis babies all over the sidewalk. My daughter was horrified by the thought that someone would step on them. She carefully and meticulously picked each one up and put it into the jasmine bush nearby. She was talking to them the whole time ("You can't go out in the street without looking -- don't you know that?" and "Stay on the bush where the big bugs can't see you!"). She spent a very long time gently picking up each little mantis (there were hundreds) and placing it in a safe place and then inspecting every inch of sidewalk and driveway around the area to be sure she had found them all. We've rescued puppies, kittens, and baby birds who fell from the nest. They always seem to be found in times of trouble and they always seem to make everyone smile. Such is the circle of life.

We are so saddened that Jeff and Brent, (as well as Mark, Ron, and all of our adoptive parents who have passed) couldn't stay with us longer. They were all great Dads who wanted very much to be here with their much-wanted children. As Father's day nears, our prayers will be with their families, who miss them every day. Their babies will carry on the circle of life.