Mr. Wheel!!!

It’s official, Danny is now honored with our oft mispronounced last name.

This being the web, I’m not going to reveal the proper spelling, or pronunciation of our last name. But I can tell you that more often then not, we are referred to as the “Wheel” family. A vivid memory from Gordon’s childhood is of a grade school episode where he was doing some no longer remembered bit of mischief. What he does remember is the teacher shrieking “MR. WHEEL!!!!!” And he remembers the titters of his classmates at the mangling of his last name.

I still tease Gordon that it would have been wiser to use my last name which, while often misspelled, is rarely mispronounced. Plus, we’d be further up in the alphabet (by four letters!)

But the good news is that it’s official. Danny has our last name. When we got married, we changed our middle names to my last name. So once we’re all back home, Danny will be: Daniel Isaac with our two last names. The “Isaac” was decided upon not long ago while listening to an inspiring sermon about Abraham and Sarah and their longing for a son. We can relate on many levels, not the least of which is that we’re old!

The three angels who visited told them that they would be back in a year and that at that time, Abraham and Sarah would have a son. We too, will have waited a year for this miraculous child when all is said and done. We too, consider him to be a blessing from Heaven and the answer to our prayers! We have been surrounded by angels through this entire journey in the form of all of you friends who have unwaveringly stayed at our side through all the ups and downs. I leave you with a few pictures from a few of those angels:

Danny’s are taken by a mission group currently at the children’s home (thank you Ashley!). And although we don’t personally know any of the women in the photos, we thank them from the bottom of our hearts for loving our sweet boy. You’ll also notice in Danny’s photos that he’s in the thick of an orphanage-wide battle with the Chicken Pox. We hope this pesky illness leaves all the kids alone, soon!

Gracie’s are taken by a friend who accompanied us on a recent visit to the Children’s Museum. A wonderful gift since I have very few pictures of the two of us together.

Finally, Josh’s photo, which I love, was taken by a neighbor and sent to us. So tonight’s theme is “Photos from a friend.”

Our new timeline is reflected in the side-bar. Because the agency wanted to process several cases at once, the next steps will not take place until next week.

Finally, please hold a very dear family close in your hearts and prayers. Nathan A. (See sidebar for a link) has been waiting for a birth mother interview, but the birth mother has officially disappeared. This family loves their son dearly and we hope the courts of Guatemala will see their way to finding a way to resolving this issue and bringing this sweet boy home soon. None of the rest of us adoptive families will be truly at peace until this happens.

In Memoriam

In Memoriam
Jane Elizabeth Tennessen
July 4, 1962 – June 23, 1996

This post will be long, but I think it will be worth it because it’s about my sister.

Twelve long years ago my sister died in the Sandia Mountains of New Mexico. It was late at night with no one around to witness, when she and two other mountain climbers fell to their death. We did not find out until the next day that in the blink of an eye, a dear member of our family, my most trusted friend and confidant, was no longer in this world.

The pain of loss is always staggering. The pain of unexpected, sudden loss is crippling and blinding. There are no goodbyes. There is no chance to say the one thing you always wanted to say. There is no chance to provide comfort, to hold a hand or wipe a brow as someone slowly slips away. I thought, no I take that back: I knew I would never be happy again.

We were close in age, (I was 13 months older) and close as sisters. She was the first person I would have called in the face of tragedy. And in this tragedy, she was not there.

Snow buddies: 1967

Jane was a psychologist. Many people leaned on her. She did not choose a comfortable practice. She worked with some of the most vulnerable of the population. She worked with victims of cult and child abuse. She worked with women who had endured incredible sexual violence and torture. She was the clinical supervisor at the Rape Crisis Center of Santa Fe New Mexico. Her death left her clients without a trusted guide. Her death deprived many women in the future of seeking and receiving comfort and help from her.

Please don’t tell me there is a reason. I don’t need to hear that there is a reason. I trust in the love of God. I trust that God’s heart breaks at the sight of human suffering as much, if not more then those who feel the suffering directly. The greatest comfort I derive from tragedies I have lived through is the knowledge that I can hand my heart over to God and that it will be sheltered and healed until I am ready to take it back.

Each anniversary of Jane’s death brings another kind of introspection. Each year I feel something different. This year, perhaps because of what we’re going through right now in our lives, I feel some anger. I am angry at the person whose carelessness and arrogance put his two climbing partners at risk and ultimately cost them their lives. I feel deep sadness that the person I would still turn first to after twelve of being away would be my sister. I need her and she is gone.

And each anniversary brings a new awakening of an idea, a direction, a purpose for moving forward. This year is no different.

Poor College Students: 1982

As I went through my box of keepsakes, I found the sermon from the memorial service we held hear after returning from New Mexico. I spent two hours talking to a very patient man, Fr. Dale, about my sister. I introduced him to someone he never met. I celebrated her accomplishments and described the importance of her in my life and in the lives of others. My love for her must have driven me to be especially articulate in my descriptions because several days later Fr. Dale delivered a beautiful sermon. Twelve years ago, as it did when I read it today, it gave me reason to press forward.

Of course, despite my belief that I would never be happy again, I was happy again – very happy. I’ll always carry a bittersweet emptiness with each celebration. But part of each celebration is a tribute to my sister who was an earthly part of my life for nearly 33 years and continues to be with me as I move into the future.

After our last camping trip: 1992 (don't worry Mom, the tattoos are fake!)

I leave you with two things:

Fr. Dale’s moving sermon: he actually said more, but most of it was ad lib. I have the transcript he worked from and it is enough.

And a poem that came to a friend of my sister’s the day she learned of her death.

Thank you for reading, thank you for your friendship, thank you for remembering my sister, Jane Elizabeth Tennessen today.

Fr. Dale's Sermon:

“Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God.
But only (she) who sees takes off (her) shoes.
The rest sit ‘round it and pluck blackberries.”
(Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “Aurora Leigh”)

Jane was one of those who saw – every bush, a garden, a common rock, “afire with God,” “Earth crammed with Heaven.” Not only that, of course, but more than many of us, she was able to see those whom the world would consider “least sisters and brothers,” alive with the dignity of God. By honoring the life and dignity of God in every common person, she herself was a life afire with God, a living sign of God’s goodness to so may, God’s love incarnate.

Jane seems to have died before her time. To the question “why?,” we’ll never find a satisfying answer. We can offer all sorts of clever explanations, but, in the end, when we think we’ve covered all the squares, the pain, the sense of unfairness will still be there, and we’ll have to admit once again, that we cannot control life and death.

What we can control, and the question we must now answer is not why this happened, but what we intend to do now that it has happened. If we allow ourselves to become cynical, or paralyzed, or lifeless, we do Jane no honor. But, if the death of someone we love brings us to explore the limits of our capacity for love and fidelity; if it leads us to discover the God who alone is the source of strength in a sometimes cruel world; if we are able to better see “every common bush afire with God,” then Jane’s seemingly short life will have been complete. She will have accomplished the great Christian mission, because she will have led us to greater faith, hope, and love.

“Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only she who sees takes off her shoes…”

The lake we camped on: 1992

Katherine's Poem:

In Memory of Jane Tennessen

I come upon this mountain
Not to conquer, but to climb

To move across its craggy face
In inches
To hang my life upon the smallest bump
The ragged edges

To come to rest upon
the meanest ledges

Death is not the saddest thing,
The greatest fear

Is a life entrapped,
That makes me quake

It is the muscles never flexed,
Skin never slick with sweat

It is a passion never spent,
Fears not met

I come upon this mountain
Not to conquer, but to climb

I am a woman, climbing
I am becoming beautiful.

Katherine Eagleson – June 24, 1996

No News is Bad News

Well, our case is not on track. We are now delayed by at least two weeks. The process of obtaining a Birth Certificate from Guatemala City used to be simple, and could be done in a matter of days. But the country has implemented a new, automated, streamlined system which now takes much longer.

As always, our case along with many of our friends’ seems to hit every road block. We are among the first cases to use the new system. Rumor has it that this new process can take up to a month or more to be completed.

We have been told by our agency that we will not be receiving an update until the Birth Certificate, Passport and Request for DNA are completed. So: no news is bad news…

Luckily, friends come through at exactly the right moment, and we are passing the time by enjoying some beautiful pictures taken by another mother of a child at Danny’s place. (Thanks Marianne!)

We’re told that Danny is a determined little kid and in this photo series you can see that he didn’t give up until he accomplished is goal.

As usual, the commentary is supplied by Gracie.

DANNY'S CHAIR SURPRISE

I don't know if I can reach it!!!

I'm reaching soooooooooooooooo far!

Surprise! (Sorpresa!) I'm gonna reach again!! (Otra vez!)





Ree hee hee hee hee hee hee hee eeeeaaaacccchhhh

Got it!

I'm reaching it so you can't find it.

It's soooooooooooooooo heavy.

Aloha Means Hello and Goodbye...

Danny - 10.5 months

As we joyfully anticipate Danny’s arrival we are also mindful of the fact that while for us, it will be “Hello”, Danny will be saying goodbye to the only home he’s known. He will be taking a very bumpy, very long trip into the big city, something he’s done before. But this time, instead of heading home after an adventure, he will be heading “Home.”

Danny will be very close to a year when we meet him, plenty of time for habits and routines to entrench themselves. I am starting to read up on attachment and adjustment issues so that we can make his transition as smooth and as gentle as possible. I hope having an energetic toddler in his life will make him feel at least a little bit at home right away.

I am a mom, and a worrier by design, and therefore keep adding to my list even as I am checking off some of the big uncertainties of the politics of adoption. Here’s the latest list: Most of the kids in the orphanage where Danny lives have the flu. It is the rainy season it’s been raining for 10 straight days. Danny, like many of the children is taking medication for his symptoms. And he’s little; he’s such a small boy – only in the 5th percentile. I worry what any illness can do to that tiny body. The orphanage has also had an outbreak of Chicken Pox. The children have been vaccinated, but the vaccine is not as reliable for kids under the age of one. Please pray for all the children’s health as many of them prepare to head home, and others continue their wait for their forever families.

Hello and Goodbye are not the only opposite words running through my mind these days. Jubilation and sadness are also linked during this time. There are over 2000 cases yet to be finalized. We were among the first 10 cases to be approved since the PGN shut down at the beginning of May. We hope this is a trend in a positive direction!

But in the meantime, many families continue to wait. I have come to cherish the friendship of these families and to care very deeply for them and their children. It breaks my heart that they are not going to be with us in Guatemala City waiting to take their children home. Please keep these families in your hearts and your thoughts and prayers as they wait.

Thank you all for checking in today. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers and for sharing in our joy. Nothing is certain in the world of adoption, but we hope that within the next 6 weeks we will be meeting our sweet boy. I’ve listed the next steps on the sidebar.

Sweet Boy...

OUT!!

March: 8 Months

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I'm coming home!!!

Case approved 5/30/08!!

Stay tuned for more information...