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A Beautiful Tribute

Posted Sep 01 2007 12:00am

The dossier is indeed being translated, but word is it may be a couple of weeks before it can be presented to the SDA. I guess I am not really surprised by this, seems to be part of our journey on the bumpy road of international adoption.

Our agency said to be prepared for delays and to be patient. So many ups and downs, some fear, joy, always interesting, always learning something new. A good journey is worth all of the ups and downs, and what we have at the end of this one is too precious for words; a sweet daughter, a new family member to love! Glorious soft cheeks to kiss, little arms to hug us! A precious angel who may need a little help for a while, but someone with unlimited potential!

This journey reminds me of being a child and traveling with my father. He was a hyper man and could not sit still for long. We often would travel 600 miles in a weekend to visit family who lived across the state, but on the way Dad would often pull over to the side of the road and point to a mountain. He would say "That looks like a good one, lets climb it" Never one to be daunted by obvious issues like two daughters wearing flip flops, he would stride away and we would all scamper after him.

He did not turn around to be certain we were OK, but kept walking, our Mom following him, both of them chatting. My sisters and I would just make our own path down the roadside, slipping and sliding on the gravel, sometimes falling, stepping on thorns, and losing those flip flops often. We would finally get to the bottom of the decline and then begin making our way up towards the mountain. Walking carefully, dodging cacti, running after horned toads and lizards we would reach the top of the hill and see that the mountain was no closer.

We never had water to drink, we did not have snake bite kits, we were not prepared for emergencies and we climbed alone. Our parents were usually no where in sight, ah the good ole 60's. So we climbed down one hill and up the next and the mountain never seemed any closer. After what seemed like hours we would finally reach the summit; out of breath, thirsty, tired, and sometimes scared because we nearly fell into abandoned mines, or came too close to wildlife; Coyotes, Javelinas, Rattlesnakes, or Gila Monsters. Fun!!

There would be our parents on top of that mountain, sometimes smooching (icky) or Mom taking in the beautiful Arizona landscape (she would have loved digital cameras) and Dad would say "Time we got back to the car" Now we all know going back down a mountain is ever so much more fun than going up it, and sometimes we would sit down and just slide down the gravel. Still we had to climb up every single little hill and down every valley to get back to that car and the drink of water waiting for us.

Other times it would be a creek running just because it had rained, and we would jump into that water and ride it downstream into we came to a good place to walk back. Again my parents would move on ahead and leave us behind to fend for ourselves....until my sister nearly drowned. Then it was swimming lessons for a few summers so we would be more water proof.

We learned to wear tennis shoes when we traveled and to get a big drink of water before we ventured off behind our parents, but I never got tired of the adventures our Dad would take us on and the fun of exploring and seeing what was "Just over that hill".
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