#37 – Once a mother …….

November 21, 2011 at 10:17 am | Posted in Adoptive parenting do's, Raising the adopted child | Leave a comment
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This week I talked with a friend of mine, also an adoptive mother, and she had some unusual news.  She started out by grinning as she said,  “Once a mother…..always a mother”.  It seems both her adult (very adult) bachelor sons were back living with her and her husband on a temporary basis.  One son was changing jobs and wasn’t sure where he would be located, so is staying with them until that is finalized.  The other son’s job is secure, but he has the choice of living in several places and hasn’t decided yet.  He has an IT job, so in the interim he can work full time from his parents’ home.

Sheila smiled as she said, “I never in my wildest dreams thought both the boys would be back home together for several weeks – or more, under our roof once again.”  One son had lived 400 miles away and the other 1,000 miles away.  For many years they had lived physically distant and communication was normal, but not overly active.

Sheila who was always conscientious about having a clean and orderly house said, “We now look more like a college dorm.  And, you know what’s strange? It’s okay.  I never thought I’d be able to overlook clothes on the floor, shoes in the front hall, dirty dishes in the sink, clutter on the kitchen counters, but all that is so trivial to the fact that we are still their parents, and families are forever. I think of their birth parents and wonder what they would think of this arrangement which could go on for weeks, perhaps a couple months or more.  Our world is so different now compared to when we were growing up and out on our own.  The job stability isn’t there, and I thank God that Dan and I are able to still be ‘home’ for these boys.”

“I guess I’ve grown up a little myself and am no longer concerned about the mess they’re bringing into the house.  I used to think it was important to have an immaculate house.  Not any more.  Now it’s important to make our very mature sons feel loved, welcomed, and that this is still their home.  A soft place to fall and regroup.  I’m not sure how my mother would react, but the best part is I know my father would look down from Heaven and smile as he said, “Good for you, Sheila.  You finally realize what’s important.”


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