Planes
Since Damian came to the states from Poland, he has had a fascination with planes. He studies them and builds models of them. He knows the names of so many different kinds of planes.
My dad says that Damian loves planes because they represent him being freed from the orphanage and coming home to a family. Damian knew where he was going. The Guires had already spent five weeks in Poland, four of those living in the orphanage. While there we explained to Damian that he would be part of our family. He understood to the best of his ability. He wanted to come.
In Gregory’s early days, he threatened to go back to Poland every night at bedtime. A plane meant a different kind of freedom for him. To him, it meant freedom from restraint. At least that is what he said, it is not what he meant. He meant- Everybody who I have ever loved me has abandoned me, you will too, it is just a matter of time. I will just be the worst and push your hand.
One evening, after Gregory’s declaration, Jerry went to his bed and said, “Okay, Gregory, you can go back, I will buy you a plane ticket in the morning.” Gregory was silent. Jerry left the room only to come back a few minutes later and say, “Gregory, I am NOT sending you back. No matter what you do, you are my little boy and I love you! I will NEVER send you back.”
The next day, Gregory came to me while I was grading papers at my desk and asked, “Mom, you write a letter to dad for me?” I did. It said.
Dear DAD,
I am sorry
I will never go back to Poland.
I love you,
Gregory
When I finished the letter he grabbed it out of my hand and examined it. “It say that?”
“Yes,” I replied. He left. I cried.
Planes. That is what started this blog. I read of the Tennessee woman who shipped her 7-year-old adopted son back to Russia. That plane took home pain. The hurt child was sent home.
It makes me cry. I’ll be the first one to tell you that raising adopted children can be difficult. These children come from horrific situations. The pain, the fear that is already lodged in their hearts, we cannot even fathom. Understanding from people outside of the immediate family is hard to come by.
I remember comments such as, “those children must be so thankful that you adopted them.” NO! These children were abandoned. At the beginning, their present reactions were based on their past trauma. There were fits coupled with angry defiance.
Thankfully, with the help of Holy Spirit and patient persistence, my children have had healing. It didn’t come all at once. Rather, it came in small increments. I am proud of ALL of my children, those who stood in the ministry position at home while others were on the receiving end.
Planes. Planes brought hope home. Planes sent hurt home.
Polish President Lech Kaczynski and some of the countries highest military leaders were killed in a plane crash this morning. Their mission? A ceremony for the 70th anniversary of the massacre in Katyn forest of thousands of Polish officers by Soviet Secret Police. Russia never formally apologized for the murders. This was a journey of hope for healing of broken hearts.
Every time I think of these two events: failed adoption and the death of a Polish President, I cry. Two seeking healing and hope ended in another tragedy.
Planes.