The most emotionally painful loss I have faced is the death of my Grandmother. She was and is "who I want to be when I grow up." That is the best way I can describe my admiration and love for her. She was strong, physically and emotionally. She believed in God and loved to serve Him. She was always busy, yet always had time for anyone in need.
As a child I "knew" I was her very favorite grandchild. This of course was not true, but she had this special way of loving that made me feel totally special and adored. If I felt that treasured, I had to be her favorite, right?
My brother and I spent some time with my grandparents each summer - without our parents. That created many good memories. They would take us for an overnight in their camper at a local lake. Those camping memories are certainly what sparked my desire to camp with my family. (In fact the after her death, my dad shared a portion of his inheritance with our family. We used that money to buy our first camper.)
As an adult, I was lucky enough to live within a few hours of her. Since I was a stay-at-home mom, I was able to visit often. The times I had with her and my children were precious. She adored children, especially babies. She and my grandpa were both battling cancer when Brenna was born so it was extra important to me to bring Brenna to visit as soon as possible after her birth. I will never forget my dear Grandma sitting on the floor at the age of 81, in the midst of battling cancer, eagerly struggling with the buckles on infant Brenna's car seat. I had brought the baby into the house first and then went back to the vehicle to unload the other three. Waiting for me to unstrap the baby would have taken too long, so my determined Grandma got down on the floor to get to her newest great-granddaughter.
As her battle with cancer came to an end, I was able to spend quite a bit of time with her. I was able to take care of her a little, to savor last moments, to say good-bye. I was able to prepare for her death and I knew without a doubt that she would be so happy in heaven.
However, her passing was still so very painful. I did not really "need" her. I had the emotional support of many other family members. I was able to care for myself financially. I had known in advance that her death was near. Even so I grieved. I woke in the night missing her for months and months. I drank from her coffee cup each morning. I changed the route I took when visiting my other grandparents (who live in the same area) so I did not have to see her home. It took a long time before memories were not bittersweet.
I think about that experience a lot as I watch my son grieve. He has lost so much more than I. He has lost a family, a language, a culture, a country. He had no choice. He had no understanding of what was to come. He was and is totally dependent.
Visiting Ethiopia was an exciting experience. I enjoyed it, mostly because I knew it was going to be a short experience. Trying new foods and new words was fun, because I knew I would be able to go home. I also had the comfort of traveling with my mom and daughter. I had researched a lot so I had some knowledge of the country, culture, and what would be expected of me.
However, if I had been transplanted to the country with no choice, no knowledge, and no real warning - it would not have been fun or exciting. It would have been terrifying.
Our sweet Joshua Gebeyehu has been in America for about 45 days. That is it. He has nearly mastered English "toddler style." He has learned about carseats, Payloaders, life jackets, parks, dogs, siblings, and parents. He has tasted many new foods, seen many new things, and conquered a few fears. He has accomplished more in these 45 days than I ever could.
But in 45 days, he is NOT "cured." He still experiences fairly significant insecurities in new situations. He is still trying to figure out if mom and dad will really always come back. He is still trying to figure out the difference between Momma and Krissy. He still struggles with falling asleep.
Today we went to visit his friends from the care center in Ethiopia. He has been so excited to see Ageze and Tesfa again. He was so pumped to go to their house. He waved excitedly when he saw them through the window when we drove up. However once inside, he reacted just like he did when we visited the care center in Ethiopia after picking him up. He was silent. He was expressionless. He clung to me, feeling most comfortable chest to chest. I wish I knew what he was thinking or remembering. Did he think he would be left? Was he remembering sad times? I have no idea, but he only relaxed ever so slightly during the 45 minutes we spent with them.
He has so much left to process, so much left to grieve. This will not happen in a day or a week or even a year. The first years of his life are a part of who he is forever. One of our goals as Joshua's parents is to help him truly heal versus ignore, block-out, or dismiss his losses as unimportant. By the grace of God, we hope to be like plastic surgeons. We hope to use great care and the tiniest "stitches" so that he will have the smallest of scars.
I pray that as he heals he will become like a bone that has been broken, reset, and healed stronger than before the break.
Once again I take comfort that the Word promises, "He who began a good work will be faithful to complete it." Joshua Gebeyehu life is already an amazing testimony of God's unfailing love and faithfulness. He has brought Joshua out of hunger and loneliness - into our family. He (God) has worked miracle after miracle to make that connection happen. It will be absolutely awesome to witness the plan God has for Joshua's life.
"For I know the plans I have for you (Joshua Gebeyehu), declares the Lord. Plans to strengthen you NOT to harm you. Plans to give you (Joshua Gebeyehu) HOPE and a FUTURE." Jeremiah 29:11
