I had a very interesting experience yesterday. That's an understatement. What I actually had was the privilege of witnessing a moving, loving, and very emotional interaction that took place between two families.
Frankye and I were invited by our neighbors, Wayne and Roxanne, to attend a ceremony at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints here in Jacksonville. The occasion was the turning over of a newborn infant from the birth mother, their mentally impaired daughter Kerri, to the adopting parents.
Kerri, who is mentally impaired due to a childhood illness, is extremely child like. She lives alone in a little cottage within walking distance of her parents. She comes to visit them daily and still does chores and errands for them. She also has the "job" of wheeling our garbage cans down the dirt road lane the night before garbage pick-up and then returning them to our house after they are emptied. Kerry is loving, kind, and a very gentle soul. She got pregnant as a result of an encounter she had with a co-worker of her father's, who was a trusted family friend. She gave birth last Thursday, 5 weeks prematurely, while visiting an older Mormon friend. She had the baby on the woman's couch.
Just to say a little about Wayne and Roxanne. They are our neighbors, people we would probably not encounter in any other way. They are quiet, mind their own business, friendly, helpful and a bit outside the mainstream. Wayne has 4 children, 3 of whom are mentally impaired. His eldest son is married and has 2 lovely children. They are Mormons. They have never proselytized. For 4 of the 6 years we have known him Wayne kept his red hair in a long, thick ponytail. A robust, barrel chested man, he looked like a biker, sans tattoos.
Frankye and I had no idea what to expect yesterday. Neither of us had ever been to a Mormon Temple. Neither of us knew whether or not this ceremony was a Mormon practice or something unusual. All we knew was that Wayne had made it a point to come over and invite us to attend, and he never comes over unless it's something important. We decided that if it was important enough to Wayne for him to extend the invitation then we would go. And we did. And we were so happy we went.
We went into the Temple and were directed to a small conference room. There were seats set up in an arc around a podium. There was a table set to the side with a variety of cakes and pastries and beverages. There were about 30 people there. Wayne opened the ceremony by introducing an older woman who said an opening prayer. It turns out that she was the older woman whom Kerri was visiting when she gave birth. Then Wayne spoke.
Wayne is a reserved man. I use that word because he does not wear his emotions openly and is not very animated. It was clear he was very emotional. He read a statement he had written, because, as he said, he didn't think he could successfully get through it without notes.
Wayne proceeded to welcome guests, singling out the adopting family and then began to talk about the circumstances under which Kerri had become pregnant. While clearly hurt and angered by the actions of his friend, the most vile thing he said about this man was that he visited Kerri's cottage late one evening "like a thief in the night." Whether Kerri consented to his advances or not, is not known, but this man was knowledgeable about Kerri's limitations and clearly took advantage of her. By any measure, Kerri's baby was conceived through rape.
In a moving and often emotionally halting speech Wayne told the story of how Kerri made the decision to give up her child for adoption. He talked about the pain his family has gone through during this period, he talked about the comfort of supportive friends and about the gift that this child is to both his family and to the adoptive family. The love and compassion he expressed extended not only to his daughter, granddaughter, friends and the adopting family, but to the "perpetrator of the events bringing forth the activities today." He fought back tears throughout his eloquent statement and I wept openly while I listened.
I was so moved by the gentle, loving way this family was handling this difficult, painful experience. Wayne explained that he didn't care if this was an usual way of dealing with this event. He felt that the birth of this baby, and the gift of her to a new family, desperate to have another child, was to be celebrated, not hidden, not secretly transacted and never spoken of again. He was so right.
After Wayne spoke, a friend of his spoke about the friendship between his and Wayne's family. The adopting father got up and spoke and barely was able to get through speaking of his gratitude to Kerri and her family. He wept openly and appreciatively. Then Kerri got up and spoke briefly, and in her simple manner told how she knew the adopting family could be far better parents to this infant then she could. She said it was a hard decision to make and she made it after seeing a movie on television about a young girl growing up without a father. She presented the adopting parents with a white baby blanket she had purchased for them that was embroidered in white satin with the words "God's Gift of Love." A Mormon elder said a closing prayer and then refreshments were served.
Needless to say I was exhausted at the end of it. I was also surprised to learn as we were introduced to people that many of them knew of Frankye and I being neighbors of Wayne and Roxanne and that many knew that Kerri "worked" for us taking our garbage down the lane. Mostly, I felt very grateful to have been included in this extemely personal, but very open interaction between strangers that concerned the most important thing in the world, the future of a 2 day old child. I know that sounds corny as hell, but witnessing such raw emotions handled in the most loving way I have ever experienced was a true gift.
Everyday is a new day, even when they feel like the same old day. Work, home, sleep, work, home, sleep.... Stuff in between, but those three things are primarily what my life is about. Every once in a while something happens to change the rhythm of the day.
