Remembering...

We took the kids to the grave site for the first time. I'm sure it'll be the first of many times. This was a quick visit, but in the future we hope to be able to tell our kids all about their grandpa Bob and grandma Patty. Oh, how excited Bob & Patty would have been to meet their grandchildren! We're pretty sure they would have loved seeing Cosi run around to the different graves and try to pull up the flowers...

They would have loved Cosi's vibrant personality and how she shares the same skin color as her grandma. They would have been thrilled to welcome Trey and see him carry on the Edenfield name. Cosi was asking if she could cook today- we're sure Patty would have loved to teach her some Lebanese dishes. And we can only hope that Bob's fix-it ability (which seemed to run strong in the Edenfield line until it got to Rob) has skipped only one generation and will show up in Trey, so he can help his Mom and Dad around the house.

We could have told them about how Trey found his tongue this week. It makes us laugh so much. Or maybe we would have told them about how Cosi keeps saying "umm....ummm..." just like mommy and daddy unknowingly say it multiple times a day. It's really hard not to have them around. Rob wishes he could ask them for advice as he's learning to be a parent. I wish they were here to love our kids. It still feels like there's a void in our lives. I imagine it will always feel that way.

One Year Ago

One year ago, we had our little foster baby, Helen. We were having our first real "trial run" as parents and were saying, "Hey, this isn't so hard!" OK, so we were a little naive.

One year ago, we were spending new year's eve with some friends, and Rob got really sick- the first day of a week long bout of dysentery.

One year ago, we were in a different apartment, trying to keep our landlady from storing more stuff in our cabinets and trying not to let on that there would soon be a child in our home (on several occasions she tried hard to convince us to wait to have kids, for the sake of keeping her apartment clean).

One year ago, it hadn't even entered our imagination that April would be pregnant before our adoption was final.

One year ago, we were expecting to bring our daughter home from Ukraine sometime in the summer of 2010...and that she would be about 18 months old.

One year ago, Rob hadn't started noticing gray hairs.

One year ago, we never gave a thought to Interpol or the actions of the Ukrainian Parliament.

One year ago, we were in a very different place! Much has changed, but God has not.

One year from now...well, it makes me dizzy to think of all that will change in the next year!

Flashback

I finally finished another video. This one dates back to fall of 2007- a memorable trip to the Wild Animal Park, where you can get real up close and personal with the animals! We're not sure yet if we'd ever take our kids here...

The whole video runs about 15 minutes. And be warned: this was only a couple months after we bought our video camera, and we hadn't yet learned to hold the camera still...

Remembering, again (Yes, April is a difficult month)

Today would have been my mom's 53rd birthday. I have friends who are older than that, which helps me understand why losing my mom feels so strange. She was 19 when I was born, and I made an easy transition into adulthood, relating to my parents more as peers.

I often think about how different our lives were. My mom, who always wanted to travel, hardly left the East Coast (until her trip to visit us!), while I've been to more places than I can remember, and all I've ever wanted is to settle down in the suburbs. By the time she was my age, my mom had been married 15 years and had two teenagers and an 8-year-old. We're still paper pregnant with child number one.

But regarding personality (and hair), we were so much alike. My mom and I always had secret looks that we gave each other when people would use a word incorrectly. We both loved to read (and my Lord of the Rings addiction probably began when she read the series to me a few months before I was born). We were good with numbers. We both relied too much on reason and tried to hide from our feelings. And we both were much more affected by my dad's death than we ever realized or let on.

Losing mom felt like losing my last connection to my past. Who do you go to when you need to remember the name of your kindergarten teacher? Who else knows the name of distant cousins? Who else knows all the embarrassing stories of your youth?

Happy Birthday, Mom. We miss you deeply.

Remembering

Today would have been my dad's 60th birthday. I don't think I ever was able to imagine my parents in their 60's- they always seemed so young to me, more so as I grew older.

My father taught me the importance of childlike faith and the value of play. No one worked harder than my father did, but he also took every chance to laugh, relax, and enjoy every moment. He was always trying to figure out what would make someone smile, and I hope I've inherited that precious gift of making people comfortable.

As hard as it was to imagine my parents growing "old," it's been even harder to imagine my future without them. My children will never know them as grandparents. I won't have them to turn to when facing the compounding confusion of adulthood. Maybe most of my sadness is pretty selfish- maybe that's usually the case. I feel deprived of the future I expected. Even now I wonder what home-spun wisdom my father would have to say about all that (and what down-to-earth practical perspective my mom would give).


Happy Birthday, Dad.
We're celebrating in our own way here- a continent and a lifetime away.
Maybe we'll watch Oscar and eat popcorn with M&M's...
Love,
Rob and April