Memory of Christmas Past

Last Christmas I held my grandson for the second time, after the two days at the hospital where he was born and right before he was placed with his adoptive family. The joy I felt in reuniting -- however brief -- with him fulfilled every Christmas wish I'd ever had.

Since I posted about him (http://lornasbubbles.blogspot.com/2009/09/wide-open-heart.html) on the one year anniversary of his birth, his adoptive family decided to close the adoption. I do not know why, and the irony does not escape me. It has been a long four months, laced at times with bitterness, after becoming attached through his blog where we watched him grow through photos and updates for a year; and now just a silent, gaping hole in the heart of cyberspace.

Lest you think me too Scrooge-like, let me share with you what I discovered about him. This little guy has character; he's funny, reminding me so much of the antics of his [birth] father. He's beautiful (think MJ's Prince Michael), endearing, and amazingly at home with large groups of people; and did I mention funny--be-bopping to his own little beat, literally, the last time he sat on my lap at his blessing celebration.

Yes folks, this is me, living in the joys of the past to forget the pain of the present.

I keep remembering Christ's words before his death, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do." The family is devoutly Mormon, and I want to believe if they truly understood the pain they were inflicting, they simply would not engage in the silence.

Although I assumed at some point the family get-togethers would end, it was comforting knowing I would be with him through his blog. That's what the family had done up until his birthday, and I thought that's how it would always be. I thought that's what open adoption was about, fostering relationships -- albeit long distance -- between families that would never have met, who shared the ultimate sacrifice.

My new Christmas wish is that the family is kinder to the next family whose children they adopt. That they let them know upfront that the bond they create with them until the baby is sealed in their temple 'for time and eternity' -- will be severed, perhaps even abruptly. At least those families could be more prepared.

As for me, I do not for one moment regret getting to know my grandson through our visits this past year, and will gladly bear the bitter sweetness of knowing who he is, and that he is being raised by people who genuinely love him. And more importantly, that he loves them. In that my heart may find...




Credit: Photo courtesy of www.kilburnhall.files.wordpress.com/

Wimpy's Half-Ass Acres Winter Wonderland

Not only has Mother Nature kept herself busy depositing white stuff all over our mountains, but she also deposited it all over my farm. The FarmVille farm, just to be clear.


Speaking of suburban farms, there is a ranch by my daughter's school called Wimpy's Half-Ass Acres. The first time we drove past it I cackled in disbelief. After all, this is VERY Mormon Utah--our neck of the woods is actually nicknamed Happy Valley. Mormons don't like to swear (well of course they do, they just don't like you to notice) so they come up with words like 'fetch' and 'oh my heck', and 'H-E double hockey sticks'. For a more complete list, see
http://pa-in.facebook.com/group.php?gid=41212866692

Now mind you, all using these words does is highlight them in flashing neon pink in my head, where my brain likes to entertain itself by substituting the real word for the fake ones it just heard. So imagine my delight when we stumbled across Wimpy's Half-Ass Acres on that random ride across town.

Maybe that's what I'll name my FarmVille farm, just for heck's sake.
Welcome to Lorna's Half-Ass Acres.

Has a nice albeit weird ring to it.

Vamps Aren't The Only Sparkly Things Around Here

When not acquiring sleighs and elfin garden gnomes for the Farm(ville), shoveling snow off the deck before our Home Owner's Association kicks in a fine, and decking our halls with all manner of Christmas festivities, I like to go out to play with my camera and breathe in the fresh winter snow. Normally I would drive snowshoe to a scenic mountain spot for breathtaking photos, but since I'm usually out of breath just climbing up and down the stairs these days, I meandered around the property and found these, just for you.



There was a noisy gaggle of geese that honked their way across the sky on the way to somewhere (hopefully far away from people who like to stuff them for Christmas Day) but I didn't have the camera on me to capture their migration. Still, nothing says Christmas more than mother nature; not the colorful lights, the plentiful presents, or the hot apple cider and lemon bars...



Just fresh glittering snow.

Edward has NOTHING on nature's wintry sparkle.