God Grant Me Serenity to Accept the Things I Cannot Change

God grant me Serenity to accept the things I cannot change
The Courage to change the things I can
And the Wisdom to know the difference.

Thanksgiving 2011

I cannot even bear to write this, but writing is my healing, my processing, my outlet, so I will. On December 18, my beloved brother, Marty, died suddenly from heart failure. The earthquake that this has caused in my family and in his community is unimaginable. He was the rock; the caretaker and inspiration of literally, thousands of people, through his family, his pediatric career, his music, his running, his advocacy and his gentle nature, and we are all left bewildered and numb by the loss of such an amazing person.

I cannot change it. I cannot bring him back. It is so final. So awful. My heart aches for myself, my husband and my children, but also for my parents and sister, who are deeply scarred, and for my sister-in-law and her family who are trying to piece together a devastated life.

I cannot change it. We drove our family to Georgia for the funeral. We spent two days traveling down and two days back. The service was a beautiful tribute and was attended by about 1000 people. We are still recovering from the emotional and physical exhaustion of this difficult journey. In reality, we are recovering from a year of exhausting events, starting with the adjustment of our 7 year old daughter, Shanna, home from China on December 13 last year. It was a rocky and painful process for her, as she learned to trust that our love was real and permanent. That she was safe with us and that we would not leave her. The first six months were really tough and Eric & I were stretched, but Love Never Fails (as I learned in a workshop with Heather Forbes) and Love prevailed. Our daughter is thriving in every way. In February, my mother-in-law was diagnosed with cancer. In May she came to live with us and we provided hospice care until she died in July. Her husband suffered, too, with Parkinson's and severe grief, requiring a change in living situation. Their house was sold in May and we cleaned it out by July. In late summer, my stepfather, who had gradually declined in health and independence since having a heart attack in April, moved into nursing care, which was both a blessing and a sorrow for my mother. He died in November, and now Marty has died in December, completing a full year of emotional and traumatic events. I cannot change it. I cannot change the impact of each of these events on the people I love.

So what CAN I do?

I can make sure my family is fed, both emotionally and physically. I can physically connect with them each day and put a nourishing dinner on the table each night.

I can keep order in my home and our routines. I can do the laundry, empty the dishwasher, keep the environment uncluttered so our brains can think. I can rely on the routines of our life, and forgo extras right now. I can keep it simple.

I can help my children make time for school work. I can sit quietly by them while they do what they need to do. I can help the little ones learn their sight words and their math facts.

I can be the buoy to my extended family. I can offer my home as a gathering place. I can support from afar through Skype and phone calls. I can encourage connections and I can applaud steps towards rebuilding independence. I can reflect healing.

I can pace myself. I have responsibilities outside our home. I have a business and clients to serve. I can return to them as I am ready, and not before. I can hope they wait for me. I can encourage them to seek other solutions if they cannot.

I can remember the Serenity Prayer. I can recite it over and over  in my mind if I lay awake at night. I can work within my circle of concern (Steven Covey) and make a difference there.

I can appreciate the joy of life. I can be thankful for the blessings I have. I can stop and watch a flock of birds circling in unison in the sky and I can wonder at the beauty of the world.

Yes, things are difficult and I am strong. I am flexible and I won't break.

"It's going to be alright". Marty always said that to us and I can hear it now. It's going to be different but it's going to be alright. And because life cannot help but go on amongst the tough stuff, here are the photos of the last 9 weeks. When I see them all here together, I am amazed by the volume and depth of life reflected back to me.

Dinner with friends Lyn & Ryan. We won their offering at our church fantasy auction and they came and cooked us a delicious, authentic Mexican meal.

Here is the beautiful Flan that Ryan created.

And they even brought entertainment for the girls. Aren't they adorable?

November 2011

November 2011

Sewing another 100 wishes quilt for Sofia, Megan's friend from her orphanage. The completion of an 18 month project and bittersweet because it was made without Marion.

Mary Alice made the cat a jacket and believe it or not, she likes it!

Mary Alice in the Geography Bee. Grandpa Jerry supporting behind.

Celebrating my 44th birthday and Shanna's first year Family/Adoption Day with Chinese at the Golden Duck

And cake afterwards at home, made by Mary Alice

Sofia, modeling the new quilt on her bed. Her smile is so radiant.

4:30 AM Thanksgiving Morning, on the way to the airport to go to Georgia.

Connecting with family.

So much love.

The Annual Family Photo, 2011

The Annual Cousin Photo, 2011

 

Mom with her 3 kids.

Shanna, enjoying every minute of her time at Uncle Marty's and Aunt Cindy's.

Eric has a chance to relax.

Pin the hat on the Turkey.

Total Exhaustion at the end of the day!

The last family photo with Marty in it.

Reading to Grandma.

Cooking the sauce and eggplant.

Fun with cousins.

and more cousins.

So much love.

Cindy, leading yoga on the platform.

Meeting up with some friends of Cindy's and Marty's, who are also adopted from China.

Beautiful, happy girls, all sharing a common bond.

Group activity.

Making the stuffed mushrooms.

Lots of snuggle time.

And music.

And smiles.

And more music.

And more snuggles.

Thanksgiving over, back home, a cookie decorating party with friends.

And more snuggles.

Mary Alice in the Spelling Bee.

Skyping with Shanna's teacher from her orphanage in China (Shantou). The teacher does not speak English, but the other woman does and helped us. Shanna no longer remembers her Chinese and even in English refused to say a word! She was very shy.

At Marty's funeral--  his loved ones.

His loving family celebrating his life. Wearing his favorite color, purple. Cindy is wearing the red dress he bought her to wear this year for the holidays. She wore it for him.

Back home again, celebrating with Aunt Janis

and Uncle Billy.

Good for the soul.

Grandpa Tom and Mary Alice making Sticky Buns together.

Skyping with Cindy and kids for Matthew's birthday on January 3rd. To the left of the computer is a photo collage of pictures of Marty, given to me by Mary Alice; a beautiful and touching gift, made completely on her own.

Finding joy amidst the sorrow.

And the crew on this side of the camera.

Megan, sporting a big smear of chocolate frosting on her forehead.

And my annual photo of my young man, now 17 years old!