Last night, my adopted son who bears my name met his paternal biological grandparents for the first time. He also got to meet a half-sister and a cousin.
It started with a “23andMe” match several years ago. COVID threw a big wrench into plans to meet. But finally – there we were.
Here we are.
There were nerves. There was excitement.
And there was so. much. love.
And gratitude. On all sides.
Grandpa and Grandma entranced with their family tales of a life mingled with celebrities and politicians, but FAR beyond that, they enfolded – totally and completely – us into their family. All of us.
Because the birth mother knows nothing of the father and vice-versa, I’m not going to share names or pictures here, though I desperately want to, because it was beautiful.
The most beautiful of all?
The tears of joy my son fought back (he’s 13 after all), and the big hug I got from him, completely unsolicited, when Grandpa thanked us for giving Ben the life he never would have had if we had not adopted him.
These are the moments I will treasure when times are tough.
And yeah – sometimes it’s really rough.
But today, I rejoice and give thanks.
Our family has been enlarged.
Along with my heart.