Friday, July 17, 2015

Tears of Grief

"Sad news." "Homicide detectives." "Shot and killed." "We wanted you to know."

I never expected to receive such news in relation to someone that I knew but there it was. A shock. A heartbreaking shock. In a tragic and violent incident a young woman's life was taken. A young woman who impacted our lives more than anyone else ever has. A young woman with a sweet spirit who had so much potential and yet she just couldn't seem to overcome her addictions and the choices in her life that brought her to such a point. That young woman was Emma's birth mom K.

We knew when we adopted Emma that K had an addiction problem. She pretty much went straight from the hospital into rehab. I kept in touch with her for the first while. We texted and we exchanged emails. She was in a vulnerable position and was open to me asking questions and she told me about her drug of choice (cocaine) and that she had indeed used while pregnant. She came out of rehab and she was so excited about life and the possibilities ahead of her, knowing that she likely would not move back here because there were too many triggers and connections. She was making a new life for herself. But something drove her back and in time she was right back where she started. It was hard hearing the news from her Mom. Hard knowing that she was hurting her parents and her boys. Her Mom was so good about letting us know what was going on and what the latest news was and how K was doing. This was never expected to happen though. A drug related home invasion. Shot multiple times. Succumbing to the injuries.

I have had so many different emotions towards K in the last 3 years. Everything from deep gratitude to anger. She gave us the most amazing gift anyone could ever give but while she was pregnant with our gift she chose to use drugs and endangered our baby. I remember getting the call that Emma did indeed have cocaine in her blood when they tested it. I remember being so angry. Emma did go through withdrawal and I am so thankful it was short lived. I see my Emma now and all I can think is that God was protecting her in a huge way. She is strong and healthy and intelligent and such an amazing little girl.

I will never forget the first time I saw K. She was sitting in the hospital bed holding Emma. She would have been almost 24 at the time but she looked more like 16. She looked so scared and vulnerable and like she just wanted to run but didn't want to run because it would hurt so much. She was trying to be so strong while her heart was breaking inside her. She later told me that she had always dreamed of having a little girl. I will never forget her strength that day, her determination, her sweet spirit. You can argue that she chose her lifestyle over her children and maybe she did but she also loved them enough to be sure they were loved and taken care of.

We went to K's memorial service today. I have been to many funerals but this was one of the hardest. To see her two young sons walk in with their grandparents (who adopted the boys last year), to see her parents in tears and to see her oldest son (who is 7) absolutely heartbroken really took a toll on my heart. Then to see the slide show of K's life and to see Emma's look alike pop up on the screen was almost more than I could take. They don't look exactly alike, and in fact sometimes you really have to sit and compare before you see a similarity, but Emma has K's eyes and some of the expressions on K's face in the photos was so like our Emma. It was a nice service, a quiet service. One where faith was talked about and where God was the centre. K was raised in a Christian home and at a young age acknowledged God and the seeds of faith were sown. We can only hope and pray that in those moments before death stole her away she cried out to God.

Looking at the future is so different than it used to be. I used to wonder what it would be like if/when Emma wanted to meet her birth mom. How would I handle that? Would I be able to be gracious and understanding and not let fear take over? Those questions are gone now and in their place are new ones. When do we tell her? How do we tell her? How much do we tell her? For me there is no "if" we tell her. This is not something I will ever hide from her. She deserves to hear the truth. It is more having the wisdom and discernment for the where and when and how. I found myself grieving for Emma today. Grieving for the heart that will be broken. Knowing that she will have to go through a grieving process herself at some point. I will walk with her through that, pray her through that, hold her through that and trust that God will make something beautiful of it.

There are two memories of K that I will always hold close to my heart. The first one is the moment we shared just before she walked out of the hospital room and left Emma behind. We hugged each other and we cried together and K looked at me and said "You will be great.". Here is this young woman walking away from her beautiful little girl and telling me that I will be a great Mom. The other memory I have is when Emma was 6 months old K got to see her again. K had completed her time in rehab and was making a new life for herself (before eventually moving back here). I saw peace in her eyes, like she wasn't running anymore. She looked so happy and healthy and ready to tackle whatever lie in front of her. I am sure it broke her heart in many ways to see Emma with me her Momma but K's face was glowing as she watched us. Almost as if she knew that for the first time she had made the right decision in blessing us with our amazing gift.

K was an addict. She made so many wrong life choices. She chose the life she had over the life she could have had and as a result she died a tragic and violent death. K was also sweet, she loved and felt deeply. She had a beautiful smile and a beautiful spirit. I will never speak ill of her to anyone and especially not to Emma. I know full well that the way I speak of K and act when K's name is spoken is the way that Emma will learn to think of her and so I want to always speak of her with love and respect. Respect for making good choices when faced with the most important ones, the lives of her children. Love for blessing us with the beautiful gift that has changed our lives. I want to instil within Emma the kind of love and respect that acknowledges the wrong choices K made but sees that there was so much more to this beautiful lost soul.

I heard a song on the radio the other day and if I could have shared it with K I would have. It brought me to tears as I thought of all she could have had and all she could have been if not for addiction.

You're Beautiful

And so our lives go on. In so many ways K's death has closed many doors. Never though will I forget the sweet troubled girl who hugged me and cried with me and told me "You will be great." Those words meant more than she will ever know.