Regrouping

Over the past few days I've breathed a big sigh of relief, but there is plenty more waiting to do. The next thing is to move Mamush to the agency's foster home, where he will receive better care, and to get a court date, so I can go meet him!

The name he was given is a generic boy orphan name, so we've been running ideas for a name as well.  Baby clothes have taken on a new face. It's now stripes and motorcycles and boats and trains and trucks.

And next for me: a plane!

rc

Little Boy - Mamush

I had invented this crazy idea that our referral would come on a Monday morning in September. So I woke up every Monday and refreshed my inbox every 2 minutes, not just of the morning, but all day. It never came. I got depressed. I drove jc crazy. I cried. I ate way too much ice cream and put cheese on everything. September ended.

Yesterday I took my Firefly and rode into Washington and along the Columbia river in the warm sun and the light breeze, delighting in its light speed and responsiveness. I looked out over the river at the gulls on the sandbar and the yellowing leaves on the autumn trees before turning around and heading for home.

At mile 17 I stopped for lunch. I carefully leaned the Firefly up against the table and prepared to anoint my favorite crunchy taco with fire sauce, idly swiping the password into my smart phone to check my messages as I did so. As my email blinked open the single word "Referral" flashed before my eyes in letters the size of the presidents on Mt. Rushmore. I wondered what I was possibly going to do with that taco. I nearly stopped breathing. I called, texted, and emailed jc. Then I inhaled and opened a screen full of 19 attachments that were nearly illegible on the tiny screen, sorting through until I came to a picture of our beautiful boy.

rc