I would love enough time to start a blog dedicated to nothing more than car rides with The Angel. I'd call it something catchy like Driving My Daisy because picking her up from school everyday is the highlight of the day. She's funny. No, sassy. She's opinionated without being jaded; open minded without being naive.
On school days, she and I have about 15 minutes of uninterrupted time together where she and I talk about whatever crosses her mind. Sometimes it is completely random. But other times, it's as if she has spent days pondering something to ask me about. Like the day we talked about heaven and God and her Ethiopian mommy. She wanted to know what God and her Ethiopian mommy did all day in Heaven. When I told her that they were both watching over us, she stumped me when she asked if they would be happy with us. I told her it was my deepest prayer that the answer was yes. She agreed. Then she asked for ice cream.
I don't mean to post about her more than The Dinosaur. He is crazy and fun beyond words and I swear he has the cutest voice on the planet; but I admire the angel more than probably another person I've ever met. She has a story that inspires me to be a better person and a personality that encourages even the most stodgy of personalities. She laughs when tears would be culturally acceptable and cries because her heart is still that raw and pure.
I expect that the Dinosaur will grow up extremely sheltered, Americanized beyond recognition of his Ethiopian heritage. But The Angel; she remembers. It is the very makeup of who she is and she will accept it all as it comes; because she knows no other way and she would not just accept her past without the determination to change it; it is just not in her DNA. I adore that about her and it is one of many of her qualities I want to replicate.
I was very nervous about our last trip to Ethiopia. One, because I HATE to fly and two, because I had never left either of my children for more than 48 hours in the 18 months we had been together. As we booked tickets, packed bags and made plans, each night I would ask The Angel if she was okay with mom and dad leaving her and The Dinosaur for 10 days. Each time, she would get teary and nod her head. I'd remind her that all she had to say was no and The Hero and I would cancel it all and stay home. She'd smile and shake her head and say "mommy, you are supposed to go".
When I dropped her off at school the morning we left, she had tears in her eyes but she smiled. "mommy, I love you and you are going to have a great time." I have no ideas what I did to deserve such a pipeline to God living in my house, but I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world. She is an inspiration and my encouragement.
She was right about that trip, we were in fact supposed to go and continually, God revealed exactly why and how.
I am surprised at how much of my life I want to control and decide and the most amazing gifts I've ever received is from the things I never had any control over. Tradition and infertility led The Hero and I to believe that family is a matter of genetics. Ha! Genetics is a fairy tale. We are blessed that living under our roof is the two most amazing blessings we would have never known existed until they were put square in our life. Family is defined by love and choice alone.
Thank you Jesus for my Angel. Her nickname began as a way I identified her and now I know that her job was to guide her mommas heart.