Sunday, July 3, 2011

All is the same and nothing is the same

The house is quiet and our tummies are full after the annual family BBQ. Everyone is one year older, but little has changed. The house looks the same. The dog is barking at the neighbors. The cat is demanding more food, even though his bowl is already full. A grocery list sits on the counter waiting for the weekly trip to the market. All is the same and nothing is the same.

Tomorrow Killeen and I will start a seven thousand mile journey. We’ll take anti-malaria medication, forget the concept of drinking water from a faucet, and play the part of a jet lagged zombies. Zinnia will begin the longest break from her parents. She will sleep in a new bed, eat at a new table, and ride in another car. A house sitter will walk the dog, feed the cat, and keep the neighbors from thinking we’ve abandoned our home.

Addis Ababa (capital of Ethiopia) sits at an elevation of 7,726 feet above sea level. A city in the clouds. My head is hard at work, searching for this city. Floating and hunting for Acacia in my thoughts. To me she is a picture, a concept, and a goal. But a mile above my head she is very much a one-year old baby girl. What is she doing up there? Is she crawling, walking, eating solid foods, or sitting on the potty? Only a few more hours and we’ll know. Foot by foot we’ve been climbing towards her and soon we’ll swing the doors open and have our moment. This will probably be a crying baby that is terrified of our two white faces, smells, and odd sounding language. Which is expected and totally okay.

Yet, maybe somewhere deep inside she has a unique feeling. Maybe right before she goes to bed tonight, everything appears to be the same, but the winds of change are telling her something different. This is stretch for an atheist like myself. Let’s just say I’ve had a lot of change lately, and I’m opening myself to the possibility of a greater force that connects us all. I’m opening myself to this in the same way that I’m embracing the belief that somewhere inside; Acacia already understands what’s happening.

Right now, everything is quiet. Quiet as we have one last peaceful night before our lives change forever.

***To catch you up to speed on the specifics*****

Monday – Killeen and I depart and stay over in Washington DC for the night.

Tuesday – We depart early in the morning on a 14 hour direct flight to Ethiopia.

Wednesday – We arrive in Ethiopia early in the morning. We are transported to our guest house, run by our adoption agency. After a quick meal we’re transported to the transitional home where we will meet Acacia. We will continue to spend time with her for the remainder of our time in the country. Our last day we’ll go before an Ethiopian judge and attests that Acacia is the child we wish to adopt. We will then leave the country and say goodbye to our baby girl.

In an estimated eight weeks (after the paperwork is processed), we’ll return to Ethiopia to take custody of Acacia and bring her back to New Hampshire.

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