There is a short story burning inside of me. I've had a vague outline rumbling around in my imagination for a few months. Yesterday, I felt some beginning coming. I burn with it right now but I must make the time to write a first draft to see if there is any worth in doing more. I know that if I let this burning time pass, that it will get lost, the passion will be gone. Like a crush on that cute boy in tenth grade, except that I went to an all girls school.
Julia is watching me type. She wants to know what I am writing about. When I tell her that it is about a story that I want to write. She asks what the story is about. When I tell her people, she asks if someone dies in the story. “You know, people die,” she comments as if she is giving me literary advice. I don’t pursue the topic. She needs to finish her waffles so that her belly is full before the school bus appears.
I told Julia that I might be getting a new phone like Ellen’s. Ellen has an iphone. “Then get Angry Birds.” “What about that cool conversation app that you worked on with Linda?” “Sure. But I like Angry Birds better.” How many times has she played, has she even seen Angry Birds?
The intensity of the late fall is beginning to wane. We are not free of scabs and itching, but Julia has stayed in school for entire days this week, and this morning there is no bandage on Julia's right lower leg. There are still a few bandaids on scabs that are now just red bumps but the skin which was hurt by the topical steroid cream is healing and it is time for some air. Julia is unsure that she can be trusted not to scratch on that part of her leg and I put a few extra bandaids where she is concerned might itch during the day. The awareness that something might itch and needs to be protected is new. Responsibility for taking care of her body is shifting to her. Which is what I’ve been working on. Which is what needs to happen.
Shifting on a number of fronts. I can see it coming. I think. I want it so bad I can . . . well, you know. It tastes very sweet. But no counting chicks or even t-rexes until they are out of their shells.
Lizzy, the stuffed T-rex from Disney World, and her sisters, Lukie and Sally, seem to have acquired two brothers. They are Evan and Aevan. They don’t live with us. And Julia has begun to speak about the birth parents of these dinosaurs. Lizzy misses her birth mother. The boys fight. Working on a new work book in attachment/trauma therapy, Julia draws pictures of herself feeling sad, angry, and scared. The sad and scared pictures have to do with her birth mother. The words and conversations seem to have suddenly appeared. And we so need to talk about this.
And then my feelings. Two passions seized me yesterday. Two signs that the intensity of the past months is waning and I am getting back to my wants in this life. I want to add a being to my household. I put it this way because I find myself once again considering a kitten and once again looking at waiting children in China. Then I wonder China? Maybe somewhere else? Maybe foster care.
Yes, the hill from musing about a kitten to doing foster care is rather a steep climb. But I am musing, not planning. I did ask to see a child’s file. A child from China who is with an agency. Her family had just found her, so no file for me. The agency noted that with a 10 year old, I would be restricted (by them, not China) to a child younger than 10 to preserve family order. I would not fight them on this; however, I also would not use them. If I adopted again, I want to be open to kids up to 12 or so. There will be no family order here no matter what the age of the child. That is, unless I adopted someone about 4 which is not in my thoughts at all. Any child over 6 will probably assume the older sister/brother role to Julia after they are home for a short while, and so what does it matter if that role is played by someone who is 8 or someone who is 12. In fact, it might be less confusing for the new child, if they are older than Julia is and would naturally fit in an the older sister/brother.
Of course, I contemplate single parenthood. I wish that my children had their father. But that is not our reality now. I think that I am keeping David spirit alive in Julia, but his impact in her life will fade, is fading. If a new child was brought into the mix, David would have never been his/her father. It is what is.
My other returning lust is to wander. Travel again. I don’t know if we will have the means this year. I don’t know whether it is the right time but I want my feet on foreign soil, my soul in foreign air. My first thought is China but that is still not possible for Julia. If I adopted again, I would bring her without question, because even if it was hard for her, it would be worth welcoming a sister that way. But for just travel, I can wait until she is more ready. Then, I think of Italy. Where David always wanted to return. Where I left a chunk of soul. A month in Italy. That would be pleasure travel to be sure.
But then, I think of Bolivia. Bolivia where I could possibly do some work. Work at an orphanage for a month. Do something that might point me in some direction. A piece of my heart lies there as well. And I could see how Julia would do in the kind of work that I would like to make a part of our lives.
No answers today. Just ideas. Vague and unformed. Wild and maybe impossible. Throwing it all to the universe to see what comes back to me. A sure sign that I am finding the path again.