An Idea Man

Today was scheduled to be a visit with August’s birthmother.

These happen four times a year; and to say August is at an age where he not only understands the purpose of the visits but looks very much forward to them is an understatement.  Tell him we’re going to see his birthmother and he beams.  His growing four-year-old feet do a little tap, and his upper body wiggles in a way that is nothing short of infectious.

His comfort with all of this, his doubtless affection for her . . . all of this makes me so happy because it so obviously makes him happy.

So when she can’t make it due to work or other family obligations, he is disappointed; I am disappointed.  And, I suspect, he is also sad.  And it’s not just his parents who know this but also his brothers, who do not share the same opportunity for contact with their birth families.

IMG_2872When nine-year-old Oscar overheard my telling August that his birthmother would not be able to meet today, he pulled me aside.

“Why can’t she make it, Mom?”

I explained she had to work, that this was a new job and she wasn’t in a position to ask for time off or to say what days she could and could not work.

In my mind I was already looking ahead to the next scheduled visit, figuring I would focus on what we have to look forward to rather than what we had lost.

Then Oscar said, “Why don’t you see if you can bring August in to her work so he can at least see her for a few minutes?”

I looked at him, flabbergasted and amazed at the depths of his magnanimity not to mention problem-solving skills.

I explained that I didn’t know where she was working, whether it would be appropriate or not to bring him in, that employers often frown on employees having visitors.  But I quickly added it would be worth finding out . . .

And though it appears it probably won’t work out, I learned something about my oldest son–something I think I already knew but now can see unequivocally:  Though the chances of Oscar having the same connection with his birth family as August are incredibly slim and, more accurately, probably nonexistent, he does not harbor any resentment.  At nine years old he is not jealous, doesn’t want anything but to encourage his brother’s relationship, to see his brother happy.

With loyalty and love like that by his side, I suspect August will be able to weather any disappointment.  And, quite frankly, so will I.

[Dear Readers:  If you are on Facebook and wouldn’t mind LIKING My Three Sons on Facebook, I would be most appreciative.  Here is the link to the page:  Thank you so much for reading!]


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