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Driving Back From a Weekend at Home
A Memory for Some Peace By Caryn L. Abramowitz
Andy's cousin, and the host of the Bat Mitzvah, insisted on introducing us to her close friend who also adopted a child from China. We were hesitant. What kind of awkward conversation could we start? So, Andy's cousin took us over to her friend herself and introduced us as also adopting from China. Her eyes opened really wide and she got this huge grin on her face and she touched both of our arms. Finally, true understanding of the magnitude of this thing – our thing – that we're doing.
She told us that starting with the day they hand our daughter to us, we would begin making our own family memories, something that she prizes more than anything else (and something I found to be somewhat reassuring considering that I had apparently been resorting to memory theft of late). She embraced us with her offers to help, provide insight and guidance, and she sent us back to Table 10 with chills (Andy) and tears of happiness and gratitude (me).
Upon arriving at Table 10, I looked at Andy and we giggled a little bit at our reactions to our new friend. It was a really cool sensation to have even a brief conversation with someone who deep down understands what we're feeling, someone who understands it at its essence and says exactly the right things and only the right things. We also giggled because we were embarking on something so special, an experience so exclusively ours to keep and hold.
Andy's mom called us over and asked us what we were looking so sheepish about. She said that she wanted "in" on our good gossip. We laughed and I told her that we had spoken to the cousin's wonderful friend who had adopted from China. Andy's mom looked at us both in the eye and gave us a genuinely happy smile. I looked back at her and thought, for the first time, maybe we're not the only ones who truly understand. Maybe this experience and these memories are ones that we will be sharing.