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I’m adopted, and so is my daughter, Kristi. I thought you might be interested in something about her adoption that sounds almost too amazing to be true.
Debbie, my wife at that time, was one of those women who was desperate to become a mother. And she succeeded at getting pregnant–once. Beth was born on August 18, 1976; she died of an improperly developed heart on the 21st.
Debbie was never able to get pregnant again, even though she went to Johns Hopkins for microsurgery to have the possible problem corrected. It didn’t work.
After moving from the Eastern Shore of Maryland to Richmond, we decided to apply for adoption. I was in my mid-to-late thirties at the time. The best I can recall, we had only been on the approved list about a year–much sooner than we’d expected–when we got the call that a baby would be available the next week. That was in 1987.
Our agency never let the adoptive parents know about a baby until the time the birth mother had for legally changing her mind had passed. So there was no danger we would lose our baby at some point in the future.
Our agency also had a foster parent program, and our social worker invited us to a thank you banquet for foster parents being held that weekend. She told us our baby’s foster parents would be there and she would point them out to us.
But since they’d had Kristi–I think her original birth name was Ashley–for quite some time, they were having trouble adjusting to the idea of having to give her up. So we were under strict orders not to say anything to them. We didn’t.
Flash forward a few years–I’m not sure how many–and Debbie and I were visiting my father’s former church in Farmville, Virginia, which is about seventy miles from Richmond. Not far, but far enough.
At lunch, we sat near a woman who appeared to be around our age. In talking with her, we discovered that her husband–I believe he was home sitting with one or more sick children–had been my best friend during the first eight years of my life, when I lived in Farmville. As if that wasn’t a pleasant enough surprise, wait till you hear the rest of the story!
While Kristi’s foster parents were attending that banquet, Chuck and his wife were babysitting Kristi!
Some people would call that an amazing coincidence, but we call it a God-thing. How Kristi, who’d been born in a city east of Richmond, ended up in a small community west of Richmond and connected in such a special way with someone who’d once been so important to me is too wild a story to think of as anything but a God-thing.
Unfortunately, Chuck died unexpectedly before getting to see Kristi.
What do you think? How about leaving a comment?
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“On Aging Gracelessly” is only one of my two blogs. I post lyrics of the Christian songs I’ve written over the last fifty years on “As I Come Singing.” Check it out HERE if you’re interested. Free lead sheets (tune, words, and chords) are available for many of them. View the list HERE.
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My newest novel, The Devil and Pastor Gus, is available online at Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Go HERE for links to those places.