Full Circle

Gardeners instinctively know that flowers and plants are a continuum and that the wheel of garden history will always be coming full circle. —Francis Cabot Lowell

I always knew that I was adopted. My parents were very open about it.  They actually enjoyed recounting the story of how we became a family.  My dad, especially, loved to  reminisce about the day when he and I first met.

A long time ago on a brutally hot August afternoon, my young parents received a phone call from that a baby was available for placement. They immediately jumped into their sweltering car and impatiently drove the long few hours to the adoption agency. My dad remembered how nervous he and my mother were.  It didn’t help that they were greeted at the door by a stern looking Mother Superior.  She led them past the many  imposing religious statues to a room at the end of the hall.

The nursery was large and open with pleasant murals of Mother Goose characters dotting the walls.  The room was filled with all manner of babies.  There were rows upon rows of white cribs containing infants waiting for adoption.  My dad remembered glancing over at a small crib pushed way back into the far corner of the room.  Peeking out of the railings were two of the biggest blue eyes that he had ever seen.  He smiled at the baby and her blue eyes.   She smiled back at him.  The French have a saying for such meetings–coup de foudre, or clap of thunder. At that moment, my father felt something shift in his heart and he became filled with the certainty that this baby with her blue eyes was his child.

Sure enough, he was right.   That baby was me.  My parents were led to my crib and they took me home with them that very day.

A few months ago, I sat in a small office at a long table signing papers to legally  adopt my own daughter.   I couldn’t help but recall the first day that she and I met.  I had recently completed my home inspection process when I received a call about an available baby girl. The social worker arrived at my house a few days later carrying a tiny bundle wrapped tightly in a large fuzzy blanket.   Peeking out from under that blanket were two of the biggest most beautiful brown eyes that I had ever seen.  I smiled.  I heard the clap of thunder and, at that moment, something shifted in my own heart.  I knew with such a strong certainty that this was my child.  And, she was.

She is.  Bella and I are now a forever family.  She is mine and I am hers–just as it was meant to be.  My life has come full circle. 




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