Each year
when our little O has a birthday, it is bittersweet for me. It starts out
typical enough with thoughts of friends, presents and gifts. Maybe I’ll hang
some signs or streamers. I might possible buy some balloons or special birthday
wrap for his gift, but soon I remember the “forgotten” year.
He came to
the orphanage sometime after his fourth birthday. We received his referral
about six months later. It told us he was four years old, but no birth date was
listed. During the end of our first visit, we were able to ask lots of
questions regarding him and his sister. Everyone referred to him as a four-year-old
although the birth date didn’t line up. Delicately through the translator, I
tried to figure out the error. Was I calculating wrong? Was the birth date
incorrect? Finally, I stated plainly that if the birth date was indeed correct,
then he was five. Following an awkward silence, the director replied, “then he
is five.” My heart was broken! This little boy, who I was hoping I could soon
call my own, had had a birthday gone unrecognized. No cake. No gift. No cards
or friends wishing him “happy birthday!” Did he even know how old he was? I
have no idea what kinds of birthday celebrations he might have had in his birth
home. It’s possible that this was not the first birthday forgotten. That day I
made a promise. A promise that his birthday would be celebrated every year
after.
For many of
us that have kids from “hard places”, our grief can be overwhelming when we
think of all that our kids have missed before they came home to us. Ultimately,
we learn to not dwell too long in the past since there’s no modifying it. But
instead, look at today for what we can add to their lives. As his third
birthday with us approaches, I am excited to see him celebrate his birthday,
his special day. And everyone will know exactly how old he is.
