This Reminds Me

Archive for the ‘Family’ Category

As part of her college application process, Lois wrote several essays including this one about an “influential person” in her life.  I wanted to blog it right away, but she made me promise to wait until after her college selection was complete.

It’s complete.  A&M, here she comes.

May 18 is our 6th anniversary of Julia’s homecoming – what we call “Sisters Day.”

Julia’s fearful walk from the “machina” to her new “dom” Mary 18, 2006.  Thanks to Shelley for thinking to take a picture – I sure didn’t have sense enough to suggest it.

Sister’s Day is a great day to blog Lois’ “most influential” essay.  So here goes:

The Most Influential Person in My Life

by Lois Julia Woodworth

She is four feet and four  inches tall, weighs barely fifty pounds, jabbers far too often, and loves me. She has brown hair, olive skin, dark eyes, and a scar from a polio shot on her left arm. She sleeps twenty feet away from me, wakes me in the night when she’s scared, and holds my hand when we cross the street. She joined my family five and a half years ago one May night, and she has drastically altered my life course every second since. She is Julia – my sister – and she is the most influential person in my life.

Julia began stretching her will into my life before she even came home from Russia. In late 2004, my parents asked my sisters and I if we would like to have another sister. After a few side discussions, we decided to expand our family. I began to imagine life with another sister that very night. One of my sisters -  Hannah – would have to share her room with the new addition, and the three of us would share a bathroom, but I was convinced the new sister would be worth it. Julia made me much more open to sharing and considering the needs of others long before she fearfully stepped into her new “dom” (house.)

The wait for Julia’s adoption taught me patience. My family waited more than a year for the name alone of the little girl soon to be a Woodworth.  When her name and picture were revealed to us, I was shocked.  Julia – called by her name of “Guanna” at the time  -was frail and weak. Her hair hung like brittle branches around her hollow face.  Instantly, I felt protective of this child, this orphan whom would soon arrive in my midst. Through the long months of  the adoptive process until my parents went to meet her in St. Petersburg, Julia taught me that patience cannot be overvalued.

When Julia finally did come home in May 2006, my life was truly changed. The first barrier between us was one of language. Guanna spoke only Russian; I knew nowhere near enough Russian to understand her, or respond to her. We worked out a series of hand gestures and pantomime to facilitate communication. It was this process which taught me that love did not need a language to be expressed.

Julia also inspired me to be a better person. My younger sister Hannah and I had never really gotten along; she never looked up to me for anything. When Julia came home, I knew that I needed to be the best person possible for her. I helped her draw, taught her English words and phrases, and stayed with her until she fell asleep at night. I loved her more with every passing day. Julia -  just by existing – taught me that I am the master of my own behavior. She made me want to learn self-control and practice self-awareness.

Julia arrived at my house as a fragile stranger and blossomed into a beautiful preteen girl. During her metamorphosis, I changed as well. Julia taught me the value of patience,  how to be self-aware and how to sing “Frere Jacques” in Russian.  I taught her what to call our family members, where Mom hides the Girl Scout cookies and how to turn on the shower. Julia and I learned a great deal from each other, the most important of all being love.

Hang on, Lois!  A&M is going to be a wild ride.

I’ve wished lots of women “Happy Mother’s Day” – Keith’s mom, my own mother and her sisters, my sister and niece, neighbors, Sunday School teachers, co-workers – it’s a long list.

I’ve missed one, though, these last six years, though I think of her often. She’s young – but ageless. Speaks Russian – but soundless. Important – but formless. And not here – but omnipresent. She’s Julia’s “first mother,” the one who gave her life.

We know very little about her. She couldn’t be found before our May 10, 2006 court date. I wish we had a picture of her at least. Does she have Julia’s sparklingly dark, slightly-slanted eyes? Is she athletic? Is it she who gave Julia that unusual strands-of-gold-in-brunette hair? We will likely never know.

Our earliest picture of Guanna-to-be-Julia, which we snagged off the Russian data base of orphans.  She was about 18 months old. 

There’s no denying that first mother. I’m Julia’s mom, but I didn’t birth her. I didn’t count her fingers and toes, or coo at her, or stumble around at night heating bottles. I didn’t clap at her first step, or grin at her first word. Julia has my heart, but she doesn’t have my DNA.

We’ve talked about her first mother from time to time. Mostly I bring her up. I don’t want Julia afraid to ask about her, or think that she can’t love us both. I love all four of my daughters; loving two mothers is just as natural. I’ve answered her questions as best I can. I have lots of conjectures, but not many facts.

What I do know is that Julia’s first mother loved her enough to give birth to her. She was young with no one to help her, and likely very frightened. No one threw her a baby shower. No friends at church thought to loan her maternity clothes, or a car seat. No one sent flowers to the hospital, or brought over dinner, or offered to babysit so she could run to the store. No one congratulated her for giving birth to such a beautiful, beautiful baby.

So today I want to thank her for giving birth to such a beautiful, beautiful baby.

Happy Mother’s Day, First Mom.  Our girl is doing just fine.

Our summer calendar is a patchwork of scribbled initials and intersecting arrows.  It was obvious to Keith and me that if we were going to do anything as a family this year, we better do it soon.  So we threw six people and their luggage into the Expedition Friday afternoon and headed south to Nuevo Progresso.  We found the streets vendors and shops more plentiful and better-stocked than last year.  We also found a really good restaurant.  Our apologies to all the sensationalists but we never felt threatened.  We saw no violence.   And we came home with some great finds.

On the way south – a stop at Van’s Bar-B-Q for really delicious brisket served on waxed paper with onion, pickles and a jalapeno on the side.  Their heavily-grafetti’ed tin walls now sport a “Team Katniss” slogan.  As we approached Nuevo Progresso, Lois asked, “The beer billboards are all in Spanish now.  Does that mean we’re close?”

 The obligatory “between two countries” shot. 

“Bike Expo and Tattoo Convention” – two good reasons not to return on Cinco de Mayo. 

First great find of the day – purses for me.  For more than a decade, I’ve used backpack purses exclusively.  They’re hard to find.  Last month – while battling a migraine – I accidentally cut the straps of the purse I was using.  Dumb.  Lois was using her Vera Bradley backpack purse (left) which just happened to be in my favorite Yellow Bird pattern.  I sweetly asked her if I could borrow it until we went to Mexico.  Or maybe I dumped its contents into a Wal-mart plastic bag, shoved that at her and grumbled, “You wouldn’t mind loaning me your purse for a month, would you?”  Either way – she loaned me hers.  I bought three identical black leather backpack purses at $23@.  That should hold me a few years.  Normally, women buy knock-off Coach bags, and Juicy, and the like.  I don’t care about the label.  I care about the functionality.

Sweet Sop drink mix thrilled Keith and Hannah.

Begin fanned by an older sister?  Oh, no, Julia’s not spoiled.   After all…..

…she begged for a sword and didn’t get one.  You ever heard five people all shout “No!” at once?!

The most exquisite items we saw:  Collapsible tin nativity sets – but these were different than we’d seen before.  In addition to the holy family, they sported prop-up wise men and their transport animals, including an elephant.  The colors were jewel-brilliant

A great view of the main drag from the third-floor of Angel’s “Bar, Restaurant and Dental Clinic.”  Lunch for six with drinks, an appetizer and entrees:  $40.  Their warm salsa with salty chips – magnifico!  Try the cheese enchilladas and the chicken tacos.  Good store on the ground floor, too. 

Mexican dresses – a “must buy.”  Lois favors the wrap-around, wispy style; Rachel, Hannah and Julia are more traditionalists. 

Street vendors asked $5/pair for sunglasses – but we paid $4/pair, of course.

This is what a talavera elephant, manatee and bird look like in the store.

Box them with a talavera chicken, and they look like this, i.e., taking up most of the back of the Expedition.  Come by this summer and you can see what they look like in the backyard menagerie.  We drove by a “Rent-A-Tire” business and Lois asked, “Can you do anything with those tires?  Or are you limited to driving?”

For the first time ever – we crossed the border twice.  Normally, we are “go up one side of the street, down the other, and go home” people.  We were getting ready to leave Sunday morning when Lois realized she couldn’t find a $2 name bracelet she just had to have.  I stayed with the packed car while Keith took the girls  back across.  The good part:  We learned all the stores and the street vendors are open Sunday.  We’d always thought we had to shop Monday – Saturday.   This gives us a little more flexibility in scheduling family outings.

A spill of bright red soda on Hannah’s one remaining clean shirt prompted her to ask Keith for his last clean shirt – a spiffy blue Hawaiian number.  Rachel accused her of trying to “grab all the hot babes” with it.  Hannah was the only one who thought to bring movies to watch on the five-hour drive.  They watched “Halloween Town” on the drive down.  Rachel begged for a different flick on the drive home, so Hannah gleefully pulled “Halloween Town 2″ from her purse.

Lest we forget why the border agents have a tough job…..

Esperamos volver – we hope to go again next year.  Angel’s chicken tacos are calling……

I used to entertain lofty visions for myself including living in a perpetual state of thankfulness for God’s goodness.  I would view each challenge as an opportunity to grow spiritually, emotionally, physically and mentally.  My children would learn patience, mercy and gratitude at my knee.  I would never take my blessings for granted.

Fast forward to the last two weeks.  I’ve left no challenge uncursed.  My children have have endured my stress, judgment and exhaustion.  From a mysterious “Walking Dead” rash on my face to the torn pantyhose encasing my tired toes - I have just stumbled and grumbled through each day, allowing activity and worry to suck my joy.  Until tonight – when Rachel showed me her latest doodle.   Her “What I’m Thankful For” list made me do my two favorite things: laugh and think.

If I composed my own Top 50 list, it wouldn’t contain “25 Wiggling My Ears,” or “38 Guinea Pigs.”  But it would certainly include “2 My Family.”

I’m surprised “Sunglasses” didn’t make her list.  She’s always loved them. 

Thank you, Rachel – and everyone – who makes me laugh and think.

If I had a list – the good kind! – you’d be on it.