A Haines Home Companion: My Valentine, a Gif, the Chicken Pox, and an Ethiopian Baby
Our dear friend Brain Hirschy made some suh-weet gifs around Christmastime, and I thought you should see ours. Everybody in the world should bookmark Brian as his or her dream photographer. His pics from the Tibetan Plateau are proof that some people have it, and some people don’t. Brian has it.
Here he is on the Facebook. That’ll just make you feel cool.
And then here he is on Twitter. You get a better dose of personality with that.
I miss Seth so much. I’m still here in Alabama. He’s home caring for our oldest who has chicken pox. We’re keeping the baby away from the germs by staying here a while longer, but this is not what we thought we would be doing this week. That’s for sure.
One time I had to be home in Alabama during Seth’s birthday. He had some fun with friends, but later that evening our dog got sprayed by a skunk. For Seth’s birthday, he had to douche the dog! It’s not a wonder at all that he’s nursed a kid covered in pox for Valentine’s Day.
The other day he said he was starting to believe that normal really isn’t ever coming back to us, and I just shook my head. I know it’s true. We’re in the thick. When you get married, it’s not all roses and chocolate, people. It’s more like chicken pox and doggie douches. How’s that for a little nugget of wisdom on love?
I visited Jeremiah’s grave the day after the funeral. It all came to a pile of flowers in the rain. My boys were singing ignorantly in the car. Tears ran down. An elderly woman pulled up in the car behind me. She asked if it was Jeremiah’s grave, and I said yes. She told me his age, which I already knew. She said he hadn’t even lived yet and then asked me who my people are. I said the names, how Jeremiah’s people are mine, and then she told me she lived right up around the corner there by Cheryl’s place, and I nodded like I knew exactly where that was.
After a minute of quiet, she told me she couldn’t walk into funeral homes anymore after her husband had died. She’ll just visit them once they’re in the ground, and then she’d go talk to her Charlie. She began to cry and said if he could have just lived till November, it would have lasted 50 years. I embraced her there, that stranger with rose perfume in the rain, her handicap sticker dangling from the mirror.
Everything is so fragile, and I imagine these little frustrated moments of longing to be together, applying calamine lotion and driving in 10 hour stretches, will all add up to a beautiful thing that we’ll miss. I think we’ll stand in the rain and call it a precious life. I really do.
Today over at Coconut Robot (love her!), Seth shares a HUGE part of our story, one about which I haven’t spoken in a while, though I used to ring out about it. Please read about our experience with canceling an Ethiopian adoption and witnessing in-country adoption instead through Kidmia.