We were driving back from a Little League tournament today and 
on the freeway we drove by my dad’s old property. I started thinking about what we were doing a year ago, today on the Fourth of July…
We had just found out that my dad had lethal cancer and had only 3 months to live. We were all rallied at his ranch with all of the livestock, ponds, pastures and pens for various animals. He has many brothers and sisters, many children and many grandchildren. With his diagnosis, we had been having weekly, or bi-weekly barbecues as he wanted people around him at all times.
He had just begun his chemo treatments and was very tired and somewhat isolated in the house. He would take many little naps during the time that we were all there and didn’t eat anything. As we were all getting ready to view the fireworks in a neighboring town, he gingerly hugged us all, through his pain. He went also to see the fireworks, the last of his life on that night. He was in immense pain, but still wanted to celebrate the birth of his country.
It was at this point in the summer, watching dad battle and fade, that I decided to approach Chris about adopting. We had always talked about it in general terms, but hadn’t ever made specific plans to do so. With the diagnosis of terminal cancer in our lives, to the strongest man ever, was enough to stop anyone in their tracks to reevaluate their lives. I was happy in my marriage, my career, my home and my role as mom to Ivy, but I knew that it wasn’t enough for me.
Adoption has always been a goal of mine. I felt as I looked over my life, that if I was the one with terminal cancer, not adopting would be my one and only regret. When I came upon this realization, I knew that the time had come to seriously start thinking about the process.
Now I look at my son, knowing that without my dad’s cancer, we wouldn’t have him. A year ago today, Becken wasn’t even born and my dad was still alive. So much can change in a year. And in my life, I have the examples of the miraculous and the devastating.
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