As time goes on and we continue on with the business of everyday life, "new" begs to be noticed in the little occurrences. Abbie was overheard playing with Wyatt last week and instead of calling him by name, she kept calling him "brother" over and over, every chance she had like she was finally laying claim to him and he belonged to her. That night as she snuggled under the covers, I asked her what she thought of her brother and she said "I like him." Perhaps that doesn't sound so profound, but it does to an adoptive mother attempting to smoothly integrate a family of unique, strong personalities who've overcome great odds so far in their short lives.
Old habits of relating are being broken. Instead of starting in angst and continuing on into bigger conflict, I notice hesitation, consideration and offers of amnesty. "I'm sorry" and "I forgive you" are sweet words to hear after many weeks of staking territory and determining how many resources these other little people take up in the equation of Mom, Dad, household and toys. There is the deeply felt longing for the sister they don't see often, but know is good, is theirs and that somehow the sun shines brighter when she holds them and speaks her love into their large need.
We spend a lot of time in the car, so many battles are fought and many lessons are learned there. What sweet joy to my heart to see Anna fall asleep and Wyatt protectively put his arm around her neck, cradle her head on his shoulder and relax into a sweet, peaceful smile. Love deepening. Bonds being forged in the heat of fire and the cooling breeze of forgiveness. In moments where I stop the business in my mind, the never ending "to do" lists, the exhausting "ought to" lists, and I actually am in the moment, purely focused on the nuance of interaction between the three, I see a spark of what will be in adulthood when Mike and I are heritage and they have assumed the roles we now hold. The view is filled with hope and sweet promise that they will stand the test of time together.
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