Friday Friend or Family Feature...

Today’s Feature is…


The Fullers !




This is how I first heard about my friend Chris…

My Friend Ali: I have a problem.
Me: What is it?
Ali: I can’t act with my co-star. (Ali had just been cast in a film.)
Me: Why not? Is he a jerk?
Ali: No. It is just that he is too beautiful. My eyes just slide off his face when I look at him. It is a problem.


Chris and Ali in Santa Fe.


Chris may look familiar. He was a heartthrob on “As the World Turns.” He also looked quite dapper as he drowned gracefully here. Chris did a commercial for Ecco Domani (you are so lucky this isn’t available on You Tube, Chris). He was so darn charming in this spot, that network executives immediately began calling him in for meetings.



Chris, to me, has always seemed like the cool older brother that I never had. He is from the Midwest, Minnesota to be exact. He is a down to earth person with strong values and an excellent sense of humor. He has been a very good friend, for a very long time.


We both begrudgingly ended up in Los Angeles. Chris would come and visit Steven and me at the beach. Inevitably whenever this occurred something very funny would happen. Women would come out of the woodwork. Neighbors we had never met, café waitresses, passersby would all come up to us and ask these two questions…

“Who is that guy?”

“Is he single?”

It was going to take a special woman to snag Chris.

Chris, after getting his heart stomped by a depressive movie star, sought solace in the warmth of Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. Instead of finding strength in the bottom of a margarita glass, Chris found something much more profound.

He found Jane.



Jane is an extremely lovely young woman from the U.K.- (Scotland really). She, too, is very down to earth. She, too, has a fantastic sense of humor. She, too, has broken her share of hearts. Jane has a super cute accent and says things like,"That Hershey's chocolate tastes like sick." She and a friend were “On Holiday” in Cabo San Lucas.

Chris really liked Jane.

Jane really liked Chris.

Look what happened….




Yep. Marriage… Scottish Castle style.

It is a rare man who feels comfortable getting married in a skirt. It is a rare woman who feels comfortable letting her groom get married wearing said skirt.




Amid fields of heather, cups of tea, late night cheese and biscuit raids and airline-sized bottles of Dalwhinnie these two tied the knot. What a wedding. It was like something out of Merchant/ Ivory, or at least Altman’s "Gosford Park" (Where was Clive Owen though? That would have been much better if Clive Owen could have been there.) Speaking of Merchant/Ivory, did I mention that one of those guys was in love with Chris? That’s right, Chris was invited to lunch at their villa in Italy. Unfortunately for Merchant, or was it Ivory? Chris only had eyes for Jane.

Chris and Jane’s first dance song was Neil Diamond’s, “ You Got to Me.” I will never forget them dancing joyously, with wild abandon to that totally cheesy song.

Look what happens next…

The Uber child. Grace.



That’s not all, prepare for the cuteness….

Here’s Riley.



These two make some pretty babies. Pretty and smart.




Chris and Jane have always been extremely supportive of us. They were there for me during this ordeal. They even visited me in that very icky hospital. They brought dinner, books and even the little Gracie to cheer me up. They gave me a much-needed hug when I had a major pain-killer induced meltdown in my hospital bed. Chris teased me about being radioactive, just like a proper older brother would.


Jane and Chris were right there with us as we tried and failed to build our family. They were as excited as we were to find out that we were finally pregnant. Jane is an excellent cook. She could give the Barefoot Contessa a run for her money. She made us a celebratory dinner.


She made me a coconut cake; a coconut cake to celebrate something glorious that Steven and I had never seen before, a tiny heartbeat on our doctor's ultrasound machine. She gave me her book, “City Baby LA.” It was a great day.

Chris and Jane were always very thoughtful when talking about their pregnancies, their kids' births, and their new experiences as parents. It was as if they painstakingly chose the right words to make us feel comfortable and supported. They never bragged or made us feel bad about not having kids. They certainly could have bragged, their daughter Grace could already play Chopin etudes with her feet…



Chris and Jane are excellent parents, so much so, that they decided the Rocky Mountains were a much better place to raise a family. Unfortunately for us, they moved to Colorado. Chris now works with his hands. He started his own business building homes and doing fine finish carpentry. Steven and Chris worked on a major remodeling project here in LA . Steven described Chris as a meticulous craftsman. Jane designed and implemented an incredible English wildflower garden at the site as well. I always used to say about Los Angeles, “Well at least Chris and Jane still live here.”

I miss them.

How will our adoption impact Chris and Jane?

Jane has set an excellent example for me. She has done all the right things.
I remember almost putting an ice cube made of homemade organic squash or something into my glass of water at their house. I remember touching the “way to go potty” stickers on Gracie’s chart in the bathroom. Gracie's room was filled with books. Gracie was learning about flowers, animals and how to catch ladybugs without harming them.

Chris had started a college fund for Grace by recycling bottles and cans. (That is a lot of bottles and cans!) Chris, simultaneously showed Grace the importance of taking care of the planet while saving your pennies.

Chris was honest about the struggles of caring for two little ones…



He also managed to express the joy that these struggles provided him...



I am sad that I haven’t seen the wee Riley in action yet. He was just a chunky, cheeky monkey the last time I got to hang out with him. Maybe we will be lucky enough to see him this summer.




I feel like although we no longer live in the same place, we will always be friends. I hope that when our kids are finally here, we can all meet somewhere, (preferably in the mountains) and enjoy a large juicy coconut cake.


Maybe we'll even dance to some cheesy Neil Diamond song.

I can’t wait.

Addendum:
So Steven just read this and was very upset that I used "cheesy" and Neil Diamond in the same sentence. Therefore, I am including the song from American Bandstand (How OLD are we?!).

He also asked me to include a poll.You be the judge of cheese. The poll is up above on the right hand side. Please vote. Chris and Jane please, only one vote apiece.

I Can Meet the Artist, Get to Know Him Personally- Chris Koch

Woman Smiling

I have incredibly talented friends. The above picture was taken by Chris Koch. Chris will have several prints available at our auction on April 17th. Don't forget to get your ticket!

This isn't the first time I have had one of Chris' photos on my blog. He took these early photos of M and m that I just adore. I feel like he really captured their spirits.

 

Chris is one of those people who is incredibly talented at many different things, (which would kind of be annoying if he wasn't such an incredibly kind person). He is a director of film and television. His newest venture is the hilarious TV show Traffic Light, which is getting great reviews. He is a photographer (obviously), and a composer as well.

 He also has a heart for Ethiopia and Ethiopians, especially these two...

We are all members of the Chris Koch fan club, especially Meazi...

Chris has a fantastic sense of humor. He is a leader. He is very, very, generous. We try to hang around him as much as we can. He can lighten a lousy day in mere seconds. I am thrilled that he is allowing us to share some of his photos at our event.

These prints are heart-stopping. He manages, remarkably, to capture the spirit of Ethiopia- the sadness and the joy.

Thank you Chris. Thank you for sharing your talent. Thank you for building a school. Thank you for your friendship.

Birthday Wish For Chris

Last February 19th, after I read her two bedtime stories, Meazi turned to me and said, “Mommy, I think my Daddy is sad about his Mom today.” I asked if my husband had said something to her about Chris. She said, “No, I just think so.” Remarkably, this date was Chris’s birthday. Her eyes got wide and she yelled, “Mommy! Why we did not celebrate? We didn’t even get a cake!” I told her that since Grandma Chris wasn’t here to enjoy it, we didn’t feel like celebrating. She was quiet for a moment and then said sternly, “Mommy, next time we are going to celebrate for her. We are going to get a cake. We will get a candle. I can make her wish for her. It is her birthday.” 

When I wrote that article for In Culture parent, I actually wrote the wrong date. Chris' birthday is the 20th of February, yesterday. She would have been 66 years old. We didn't get a cake, but we did find a way to celebrate. On our way to Chinatown, I asked Meazi if she wanted to visit the wishing well, and make a birthday wish for Chris there. She said she would. As we got closer she told me that she was going to wish for roller skates instead. I didn't have high hopes. Steven had shown Meazi and Melese an album that morning, old black and white photos of his family. The wishing well has little dishes scattered to collect coins. In front of the dishes are small signs like, 'health', 'long life', 'money', and even 'vacation'. You can be pretty specific about what you wish for. We gave the kids all the coins we had.

Steven bought them those annoying little snappers that you can throw or stomp.

We did a little shopping.

And exploring.

Then we went to one of very favorite restaurants in Los Angeles.

The food came, Meazi took a couple of bites, turned to me and said, " I wished for 'love' and 'happy' for Grandma Chris."

I wish you could have met these two Chris. They are remarkable.

Happy Birthday.

Friday Friend or Family Feature...

My brother-in-law made a very eloquent speech at our wedding. It was about relying on one another for strength during difficult times. He asked us to survey the room and to notice all the support we had if we needed it. (He said it in a much more eloquent way than that, and I would give you a link to the speech if I were more computer savvy but..) The point is that we have needed it, the support and strength I mean, and we have received it in a myriad of different ways over the years.

Every Friday I would like to feature a friend or family member that has helped us over the years. Our lives are intertwined and I believe our adoption will affect many of these people in various ways. So, without further ado, the first person I would like to "speak" about is my mother-in law Chris.



This is a picture of my mother-in-law holding my husband. I guess that Chris came to mind first because I feel that, next to Steven and me, she is the one for whom this adoption may have the most impact. That, combined with the fact that she is coming here next Tuesday for Thanksgiving, has got me thinking about her.

Chris is not yet a grandmother. This has always brought me sadness. A few Thanksgivings ago, Chris came to celebrate with us. I was drinking sparkling apple cider for our Champagne Thanksgiving toast. I was pregnant. It was glorious. The three of us were giddy with excitement and joy. She had brought me a strange and wonderful gift, Melisana Klosterfrau Melissengeist Carmelite Water, supposedly great for morning sickness. She was going to be a grandma, we were going to be parents. We thought, "This is our last child-free Thanksgiving!" Well it wasn't.




Chris is no stranger to loss. She lost her husband, George in November of 1991. She has persevered, creating a rich life for herself in spite of losing her soul mate. She has raised two of the most incredible men that I have ever met.


I can't wait to see her teaching my new kids about the wonders of a library or the intricacies of a maple leaf. I look forward to the day when she shows these new grand kids her miniature horses, her cats and her dogs. I can't wait to see my kids show her a traditional Ethiopian coffee ceremony. (She is the only person I know who drinks more coffee than I do). I want to be a fly on the wall when she brags to her friends about her grand kids and all the funny things they do, or even hear her say, "My daughter-in-law is in way over her head." I cant wait.




So Chris, sorry about that sucky Thanksgiving in 2003. I am hopeful that this one will be better, and I am going to go out on a limb here and say, "This may very well be our last child/grandchild free Thanksgiving". (If not this one, then definitely the next one.)

Grief...It's What's For Dinner.

Note to self... Do not put anything on your blog, even as a comparison, that you might end up needing. This is why, in the future, you will never see this, this, or this here at the eyes of my eyes.

So where are we on the Kubler-Ross graph? Who knows.What I do know is that people deal with grief in different ways. Some cry. Some are too stoic for crying. For some people, grief manifests itself in the sciatic nerve, the stomach, and in a 60 hour bout of the hiccups.

Sometimes people turn to new, strange hobbies...

That's where Steven is today, beekeeping.

I am okay. I am okay until little things creep in. Like overhearing this...

Steven, to his brother Mark who is in Phoenix cleaning out the house: "Yeah, those are African animal cookie cutters. She must have just bought them."

All I can do at that moment is whimper softly from the couch,"Please hold on to those."

Or reading this in a card," You took such good care of your mom just as she took care of you."

That one really gets me. I can't even type that without crying.

There has been a big hullabaloo lately over at my adoption agency's online forum. For a lack of a better phrase, people are losing their shit. There haven't been referrals for months, and people are panicking. Wait times have been extended, and families are abandoning ship for agencies that promise faster placements. I am avoiding the chaos. There is less of a sense of urgency now for obvious reasons. I realize that there were three of us waiting. This is the excitement order: Me, Chris, then Steven. Now that my co-captain in waiting is gone, I think I have lost some of my enthusiasm. Part of it is a fatalistic, "It is probably not going to happen at all," feeling. I guess that would put me in the depression stage huh?

One morning, before Chris died, Steven and I had the following conversation. It was 6:00 am.

Steven: I'm wondering...Nah, never mind.

Me: What?

Steven: It's too early. Never mind.

Me: No, go ahead. What were you going to say?

Steven: I was wondering if we should just print up a picture of two cute Ethiopians and show them to mommy.

Me: I was thinking the same thing! But then I worried, what if there really is a heaven, and she knows we lied to her?

Steven: I was thinking the exact same thing.

In our house this is big. For a lapsed Catholic, and a lapsed Jew to suddenly have a strong inkling that there is indeed a heaven, it's a big thing. Maybe we were just trying to make ourselves feel better. Nonetheless, we agreed that although it was tempting to show Chris a fake 'proposal' and make her a grandmother before she died, it wasn't a good idea.

There are things that have helped in the past couple weeks:

A day with this guy...

A musical package from a friend...

All of your prayers, thoughts, comments, poems, and quotes have been extremely helpful. This one in particular from Jana...

"This may seem weird but I couldn't help but think that having the sweet love of my life singing and whispering in my ear while I passed away would hands down be one of my biggest "dreams come true". People spend their whole lives chasing after that kind of intimacy and Chris had it."

I never really thought about it that way. Maybe Chris was lucky in that she had an intimacy most people crave and don't receive.

The greatest solace of all, I think, is a new image that I have created in my mind. It is of Chris finally joining her soul mate again after many, many lonely years.


He is waiting for her. The door is open. She climbs in. They sit together coffee in hand, and watch their grandchildren's story unfold. They aren't worried that it is taking too long. They have faith that it will happen. They know that someday their son, his wife, and their Ethiopian children will use those cookie cutters. They are omniscient and beautiful. They suffer no pain. They are together at last. It is a heavenly day.

That would be nice wouldn't it?

The C Word...Chris.

In March, by writing this post HERE, I tried to describe what it is like to hear the words,"You have cancer."

Apparently there is something that feels much, much worse.

The school where I have been subbing has a 'no cell phones' rule. You never see a teacher or an administrator talking on a cell phone. It is kind of cool. It gives the school an old-fashioned feel. I always bring my cell phone so that I have a clock. This way I can surreptitiously count down the minutes until I can say the most glorious words known to all substitute teachers across the world,"Children you may go to recess."

When my mother-in-law's name came up on my phone, I immediately felt an uneasiness. Chris always calls Steven's phone, not mine. They talk at least once a week. Thinking I would uphold the rules, and talk to her on a break, I didn't answer. When the phone lit up again seconds later, I excused myself from the first grade classroom.

I answered and Chris said,

"I have a brain tumor, I need to talk to Stevy but I don't know his number."

I spent the next three minutes insisting that she of course DID NOT have a brain tumor. I said that there was NO WAY she could have a brain tumor. She told me that her GP had given her an MRI and there was a tumor on it. I went on about GPs knowing NOTHING about MRIs, that of course it was a mistake, and what was this buffoon's number!? She gave me a number and asked me to call Steven and have him call her. I told her to calm down. I assured her that this was a mistake, that we would work this out and get to the bottom of this egregious error. I told her not to worry.

For a couple of weeks leading up to this day, Chris had been calling Steven. They are very close, but these calls were more frequent. Steven and I were convinced that Chris was a bit stressed out. Her symptoms (forgetting things, making mistakes at work) pointed, in our opinion, to stress. We even stayed up late the night before this call compiling a list of things we felt were contributing to her stress and anxiety. Steven planned to send this list via e-mail to reassure her that with a couple days off , she would be right as rain. He didn't send it that morning because he wanted to confirm with me that he had included all the reasons we had come up with.

After I talked to Chris that morning, I still thought that she was just stressed out. I turned the doorknob to go back into the classroom and discovered that the first grade had locked me out of the room. I pounded on the door,"Please LET ME IN!!!!" I pounded some more. Shit, I thought, how am I going to explain this to the administration? I was in the hallway, on my cell phone. I left twenty, seven year old children ALONE in a room. Luckily, a kind-hearted first grader sheepishly unlocked the door and let me in.

Something came over me.

You know when you have the flu and you are about to throw up? It was like that but without the temperature change your body gets. There was no chill, no heat flash. I felt like the life was just draining out of me through the soles of my feet.

Just then, at that moment, the fire alarm went off. Twenty first graders went berserk. Two of them seemed to be in mid air, as if they sprouted a trampoline beneath them. Two boys tried furiously to open the sliding glass doors that led to the garden and then to the street. Kids were running to three different exits, "Miss Julie! Miss Julie! We have to exit HERE!" "No HERE!" " No HERE!" I loudly request that everyone calm the hell down, and line up at the main door to the classroom. Laura yells, (Did I mention that she sounds exactly like Carol Channing?) "MISS JULIE WE NEED THE EMERGENCY PACK!" I asked her to get it.

Remarkably, we all file out. We walk in an orderly fashion to the parking lot. There of course was no fire. Each school has a required number of fire drills to conduct before the end of the year. School is out this coming Friday, so I assume they were, just like a cop at the end of the month, filling their 'quota'. The principal comes around and asks me if every student is accounted for. I say, "Yes, I think so." I am ashen and shaky. Laura says, "Everyone but JAMES!!" My shoulders fall and I am seconds away from tears. " Everyone but James,"I say defeated. "He is just absent today," Laura says. Luckily, he is just absent today, not lost in the non-fire.

On my break I went home. I told Steven about the phone call. I give him the number of the doctor who clearly doesn't know his ass from his elbow, and I go back to school.

I come home again while the kids have Japanese. I see Steven on the phone, a pen in his hand.

He has written on a Post-it....

Brain tumor.

He leaves for the airport. I go back to school.

"Miss Julie is crying."
"It's because her Grandma is sick."
"No, it's her mom!"
"NOOOO, it's her mom-in law."

(Are you starting to see why Miss Julie is not the best choice to lead a room full of children?)

School ends. I go home.

I diligently read about brain tumors. There are all sorts of brain tumors. Many are harmless. I read and read, and then I read some more. I remember the story of this actor. He had a brain tumor and he is fine! Still a great actor! I am encouraged. I read some more.

Oh God, just don't let it be this one thing. If it is this one thing, then we are in trouble.

Monday morning my husband's mother has a biopsy of her brain. It is confirmed to be the one thing it could not be. That is what it is. Incidence is approximately two to three new cases per 100,000 people, per year. Steven reminds me of what my doctor said to me about my biopsy, "98% of the time it is nothing." Why is it it that we keep falling into this category?

There is something much much worse than learning that you have cancer. It is learning that someone you love does.When that person is at least fifty percent responsible for creating the person you love most in the world, well what is there left to say?


I feel an anger now that is so intense it scares me. I have never felt this angry.

What do we do for Chris? Why is this happening? What will we do? How do we manage?

Is it that we have to experience this loss to understand our future children's losses?

Fuck that.

Steven lost his father already. We are empathetic and we are educated. We can figure out how to help them without this. This is not something we need.


This is instead something that I fear will cause us to crumble. All of us.


We Scramble.

We Cry.

We Hold On.

We Hope.

We Falter.

I Am Angry.

I Don't Know What to Do.

Seeing the Forest Through the Trees...

Is that how that platitude goes? Can't see the forest through the trees? I have definitely been caught up in the trees lately. I am trying to remember to step back and take a look at the big picture.

Here are some of the things that I have realized in the last couple of weeks:

ONE: This is one hell of a depressing blog. Good grief, I don't even want to read it.

TWO: YOU, my friends in cyberspace, may be the most insightful and supportive people that I have ever "met".

THREE: One of life's cruelest ironies is taking away a librarian's ability to read.

FOUR: Stage IV cancer is much, much, much worse than Stage I.

FIVE: My husband is the best son ever.

SIX: My cold/cough is not indeed a recurrence of my cancer, but more likely the result of having a small first grader sneeze into my face.

SEVEN: My dogs miss my husband as much as I do.

EIGHT: My adoption will continue!! (Best of the big picture revelations!)

NINE: If we are lucky, our kids will meet both of their American Grandmas.

TEN: The word 'Palliative' is one of the nastiest words in the English language.

ELEVEN: Everyday is a gift; I'd better stop moping.


I was trying to remember how important levity is in a crisis. Remember Boyd?

Here is an example.(It is not at all funny now, but at the time it was a great relief/release.)
I was asking Steven about the possibility of getting Chris to come to Los Angeles for her cancer treatment. U.C.L.A is world renowned in this field...

Me: Well, can she fly?

Steven: Julie...She has cancer, not wings!

Levity.Barely.

I thought that I'd tell Chris a joke that I read on our adoption agency's forum. (Apologies if you read this and say,"Hey! That was my joke!")

Picabu Street, the world class skier, decided to quit skiing and become a nurse. She graduated from nursing school and applied for a job at a Colorado hospital. When the hospital denied her application for employment, she asked why they refused to hire her. They said,

" We don't want anyone calling here, and have to hear you answer the phone,"PICABU...I.C.U."

I know, not a very good joke. I realized that not only was this joke not funny enough, my mother-in-law probably wouldn't even get the semi-obscure reference to this Olympic skier.

We've tried Incredible Hulk jokes and Kermit the frog jokes. Oh, didn't I mention that Chris' experimental clinical trial drug causes her to turn green? I don't mean figuratively, I mean literally green. Because she wasn't feeling bad enough already right? She gets to turn green, her skin, her nails, even the whites of her eyes - green.

I really am trying to think back to the feelings I had after I was through with my cancer ordeal. I was grateful. I felt strong. I felt more appreciative. I noticed life's beautiful tiny details.

My case had a happy ending though. I'm still standing. Chris' ending will not be happy. It won't be the same feelings. She won't survive. This is what will kill her. This is something entirely different. How do you come to terms with that?

When we got this news, my first adoption related impulse was to call up my agency and ask them to let me talk to the family that was next in line for a sibling referral. Surely they'd switch places with me! Our situation is urgent! We need to make someone a Grandma PRONTO!

Then I realized just how completely inappropriate this idea was. It is urgent for every adoptive family, (as you all know). This family probably would have switched with me! All of the adoptive families I know here, and in cyberspace, are just that thoughtful and generous.

I also realized that if we did this, if we tried to manipulate the Universe's time line, we wouldn't be placed with our kids. I realized that the kids who needed us most would never find their way to us.

So, I remain hopeful. I am grateful today. What am I most grateful for today? (WATCH ME beat a metaphor/simile into the ground!!)

Today I am so very grateful for all of you. Your thoughts, prayers, comments, and support have made a huge difference in my life. I am not being hyperbolic, I mean it.



Like a grove of majestic Redwoods (There it is!), you guys have shown me your strength, and your wisdom. You are my forest. (Oh, the cheese! I am laying it on so thick!)

But seriously,

I mean it.

Thank you.

I am grateful.

Planted the Seed.

Remember this day?

Chris Treter of On The Ground changed everything that day. A big "If" became a "when".  It was a good day.

Chris just got back from Kololo. You have to read what he wrote about his trip HERE.

It is hard to read this and not say, "Eh, it was just a drop in the bucket. What can we do?"

It is hard not to feel discouraged. I've been trying to get a lunch program there. I've been trying to get shoes from TOMS for the kiddos. Drop in the bucket. It will never be enough.

In the middle of my discouragement, I began thinking about all of you. I know how many people did something to get this school up. I know who you are. Could you do me a favor? Could you leave a comment on this post saying, "I did this" or "Here" or "Me!" Or whatever you'd like. Let's just see you all in writing huh? Let's just give you a pat on the back for your contribution.

Chris's post brought me to tears. Hoping that we can come together again and do more. Who is with me? Who helped plant this seed?

At Home...

My Mother-in-law Chris is back at home. Steven is with her, and we will take it one day at a time.

This is an updated picture of our Habesha garden. The Teff, (in the foreground) was sent to us by Chris. As you can see, it is vibrant and healthy. If Chris gives me the okay to share more info later, I certainly will. In the meantime Thank You so much for your thoughts and prayers. I could literally feel the support through the Internet.

Their House.

In my family when someone dies there is a wake, there is a funeral mass, there is a burial. There is public grieving and remembering. A group of people gather with one person on their minds. There is collective sorrow. There are chairs or pews to hold those who are too sad to stand. There is music. People speak kindly of the deceased. There is ritual.

When Chris died there was none of that.

Yesterday, by putting together this montage, I attended the wake and funeral of my mother-in-law, seven months after her death. I wept for all that has happened, and for all that has not happened.

It is true that grief begets grief. You read about someone dying, a stranger to you, or even a friend or relative of a friend , and suddenly their loss becomes your loss. The death of someone you love comes rising to the surface, and you feel yourself become undone.

Steven and his brother, today on the 20th of March, hand over their childhood home. The house they grew up in will no longer belong to them. It has been sold. There will be new cars in the driveway, there will be a new family living inside. A man and his wife will move in, look around, and feel comfort in owning a new house. They will feel the desert heat. They will open the sliding glass doors and walk out into the yard. They will sit around the hearth on a chilly desert evening and they will consider themselves home.

On our way to Santa Fe last Christmas we stopped at Chris's house. It was a very sad place to be. Steven had someone come in to repair the fireplace. Several men worked for two days repairing it. Yesterday, as I was looking for pictures, I noticed that so much living happened around that fireplace. So much living.

For my husband and for my brother-in-law Mark, I love you, and I share in your grief. This house will always be your home, no matter who lives in it.

Look at the pictures. How could it not?

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Friday Friend or Family Feature...

Today's Feature is...

Heather!


This has been a really hard entry to write. Mostly because I know how private Heather is. I want to say everything, without saying too much.

This first picture of Heather at a friend's wedding is hilarious to me because it was taken on one of the four days in fourteen years, that I have seen Heather in a dress. She also wore a dress to two other weddings, and to her own. Her wedding dress was accessorized by white Converse sneakers if I remember correctly.

I met Heather the same time I met Steven.


Steven lived in the guest house of Heather and Marc's main house in Santa Fe, New Mexico. They shared a courtyard. The day I met Heather she was participating in a Santa Fe Art Show. Artists opened their homes and studios to the general public. Heather seemed shy, but friendly. I don't even think I had a chance to see her paintings that day. Apparently I only had eyes for Steven.


When I moved into that little purple house three months later, I never would have imagined that this woman would soon become such an important part of my life. Heather is my best friend. I talk to her constantly. She has been there for me time and time again. She is unfaltering in her friendship.



Heather is a no nonsense kind of woman. There is no bullshit with Heather. She tells it like it is. There is no pretense. There is humility, strength, humor, patience and wisdom. Heather is an incredible listener. Heather offers advice in a gentle, constructive manner. She knows what to say, and more importantly she knows what not to say.


When you run something by Heather and she says nothing, you know you are in trouble. If Heather is silent you can tell that she is letting you work through something. She is waiting (very patiently) for you to figure it out on your own (she is confident that you will!) I'll give you an example:

There was a brief, tortuous time when Steven and I officially gave up in the family building department. We couldn't take it anymore. I told Heather that is was obvious that the universe did not want Steven and me to be parents. I had been pregnant four times, and still we remained childless. Adoption, for that brief period, seemed far too daunting a task. Heather just kind of let me work through it on the phone. She didn't push me. She knew what I needed in terms of support. I needed a moment to let the strength come back to me. I needed to build myself up again. I needed to overcome my losses and disappointments. I just needed a little time to get myself together. I needed some time to open my eyes and my heart to something different, to something else.

She never pushed me. She let me get there on my own. I could literally feel her support in her silence. She just listened, and listened, and then she listened some more. Like I said, she is an incredible listener. How on earth did she know that that was exactly what I needed?

I can also think of time when I needed Heather to actually speak up, to set me straight verbally. Steven had a job opportunity in Los Angeles and wanted to take it. I had fallen in love with Santa Fe and didn't want to move. After weeks of stubbornness on my part, Heather sat me down and said," If you love Steven, you will get in that car." I brought this up to Steven the other day and he said that, he too, had gotten a "talking to" from Heather. His was something like," If you love Julie, you better make sure that she comes with you, make sure she gets in that car."


Heather and I both do something that is not ideal. We both worry A LOT. We have both fallen victim to Dr. Google:

"Well I just typed in my symptoms into Google, and I am sure that I have Ebola." Or," Well, according to Google, my cancer has a huge recurrence rate and will you take my dogs when I die?!" Or, the latest from Heather, " Neve's head, (Neve is her 15 month old daughter) is way too big for her body. It must be (insert horrible disease here)."

It is true, Heather and I tend to band together and fall into a Debbie Downer mood. We can't really help it. We have both been through huge health scares and challenges. We have suffered losses. We have battled major illnesses.

We have lost friends...


Together we have cried about Maddie, about Oasis, about Ollie and now about Lummi. These were our kids. These were our family.


Here is another of Heather's paintings. It is called "Disheveled Mom".


Here is another piece, I will title it, "The opposite of Disheveled Mom."



Heather is a great mom. She is vigilant in her care of Neve, but also allows Neve to experience new things on her own.


Heather suffered terribly to make sure that Neve was, and still is breastfed. The La Leche woman, at one point, made Heather stop and let her breasts heal. (Sorry Heether Feether, that was pretty personal huh?) It was an extremely painful and challenging experience for Heather.


She stayed strong and dedicated. It is really an amazing sight to see Neve make the sign for milk. It is even more amazing to see Neve's hand rest gently on her mom's face as she nurses. It was tough, but Heather was determined.

I have mentioned how supportive Heather has been emotionally. Did I mention that Heather gathered up a batch of her paintings, auctioned them off and then sent us the money to put towards our adoption expenses? Who does that? This money completely covered our home study. What a gift. Heather is a well respected artist. Her work commands top dollar, and she is featured in many galleries across the country. She has been the focus of several magazine articles.


When I asked her about this incredible gesture she said," After all of the losses that you guys have gone through, it felt really good to be able to finally help in some way."

Um, what does she think she has been doing for the last fourteen years?

Luckily, in a rare karmic response, a collector stumbled upon this auction and offered Heather, an "Artist in Residence" spot at his estate in the Italian countryside. Yep, I said Italian countryside. Oh, by the way, if you karma Gods are still out there, this is Heather's favorite artist...


Richard Diebenkorn. If you happen to see one lying around, please send it her way. She deserves a nice present.


This is another picture from my wedding...


This is our friend Chris' vintage Cadillac. On our wedding day, Marc and Heather decorated this car with balloons , streamers, and Paco the Pardoned Pinata. Chris, (who is epileptic and not allowed to drive,) drove us around the Santa Fe Plaza. Heather had strategically placed an enormous bag of candy in the back seat. Minutes after saying our vows, Steven and I tossed this candy to cheering onlookers. It was an incredibly exhilarating moment, one that I won't ever forget.

Another moment, made brighter by the presence of Heather...


Ginther's Great Ice Poop ! Truly an inside joke. I apologize.


How will my adoption impact Heather?

One of the pictures I have in my mind, one of the ones that makes me grin so big it hurts, is a picture of me, Heather, Neve, Marc, Steven, our children from Ethiopia and all of our dogs hanging out. In this picture we are laughing. We are happy. We aren't that worried. We are healthy. We are together. We have our children. Neve shows our kids something and they giggle. There is a small scuffle for the best toy, but then there is sharing. There is coffee. There is the New Mexico desert. There are burritos from Bumblebee. There is friendship. There is love. There is gratefulness. There is joy.

I can't wait.


I love you Heather. You are, hands down, the World's Greatest Best Friend.