My maiden is Lomas, and in my most intimate moments I still refer to myself by it. It isn't that I am not happy to be a Lindemann, I am, but I was a Lomas for 29 years and a large part of my being is grounded in that name. As a historian, I love to trace the geneology of my name. Norton, Lemley, Montgomery, they all blend with Lomas to create my name. I stand on the shoulders of those families. My children will have those names, plus Walters, and several others that are equally important but I can't spell, Puchalic?-the polish names get me every time- they will also bring a seperate heritage with them and all these things will magically knit together to make them who they will be. When I think of my Grandmother riding in car across the country to escape Depression era Mississippi, or my Grandfather working in newspapers, or my parents meeting in the Disneyland hotel I am breathless with wonder at how the small minute things are the ones that change your life.
My husband's brother, Nick, got married last week. He met his wife and knew she was the one. They married within a month of dating one another. I have never met her, but the sheer sound of wonder and joy in his voice makes me thankful that she has come to bless this man with who has such a sweet heart. It is in these moments that the "what ifs" can crowd in and confuse you. What if my Mom hadn't found my father charming? What if my Grandmother had married her high school sweetheart and moved back to Mississippi? What if Justin never got in a car and drove to Western?
My marriage is a miracle of choices. How else would two people born a nation apart find one another in Monmouth, Or. Only God's divine plan could have made this happen, but our finding one another was a result of the thousands of choices that came before us.
I used to hate the geneology lists in the bible. What was the point? I get it, people begot people. Lately I have to realize what they symbolize. The person in the middle of the geneology list may never know that David is their great great great great grandson, but they made a choice that built to that greatness. The smallest act can build to the greates achievement.
I do not know why we have chosen to adopt, and at times I am overwhelmed with all the worry and responsibility that parenting presents. I wonder how my child will be able to conect with my roots. Will they consider them their own? Will they blend their father's German stuborness and Polish silliness with my Jewish anger and Scots-Irish humor? How will they blend their own heritage, whatever it may be? And how will I help them know that that that is just as important as ours?
The strange thing about this journey, is that their are many unknowns. In that regard we are no differant than any other expectant parents. I know that unknowns are to be met with cheerful determination. If those who have come before us had ran from the unknown than we wouldn't be here.
Jim met Marcia and they had Justin. Mike met Linda and they had Juli Ann.
Justin met Juli Ann and they had ?
I can't wait to fill in the question mark.