A lot of people ask me, "Heather, so you're really not going to have children?"....
And I think to myself that I know they are only asking me because they truly believe I'm missing out on something by NOT having any....
Like this morning, my dearest friend Amber sent me a video of one of her children doing something hilarious, and boy I tell you, it really made me smile. I love that my friends and my sister Ang, have created these little lives that are lived so largely, I think the world is a better place for having their laughter in it, their love and their innocence.
And while I'm not, not having children because I don't like them, because trust me, I adore them, but this weekend, I really found the reason my commitment to not having a baby of my own....
It came in the face of a little freckle faced red haired boy that I've had the pleasure of meeting here a couple weeks ago. A friend of a little boy I "big sister" on weekends....
The first time we met, a couple weeks ago, I said, "hey there lil guy, did you know that today is "National Redhead Days? Happy Redhead days!" He smiled really big at me and you could just tell that he was suddenly proud of being a part of such an elite group ....He was a "Ginger" and he was beaming in the fact that he was one in that moment.
We gave him a ride to his house once when he had a ways to walk, he said thank you, and seemed to have meant it.
At Canal days this weekend, I once again saw him....and had the pleasure of getting to know him a little better....I asked him about his mom, not knowing who she was, and he said, "She lives in Lima".
I said, "oh, well i probably don't know her then." Ready to change to the subject...
then he tells me "She lives in a crack house"
His eyes told a story that I couldn't dare repeat. I said, "So you live with your Dad then?"
He said, "I live with my Grandma".
I nodded, and said, "Do you like living with her?"
He nodded and said "yeah".
Throughout the day, I got to see more of this child's character and spirit, as we copped a squat on a sidewalk and he ate a funnel cake with my "quasi-adopted lil brother" and myself. The the two of them plotted their next move. "The Pink Puker!"
I said to him, "Do you really think that's a good idea, you just ate a ton of grease and sugar, maybe the pink puker should wait until your food settles? I mean, you'll probably hurl, they don't call that thing the pink puker for nothing you know"
he looked at me, bravely and said "Challenge Accepted"....
While I thought he was crazy, at the same time, I thought "I like this kid"...he's crazy, but I like him!
So we picked ourselves up off the sidewalk, and off to the Pink Puker we went.
I waited in the crowd, watching from a distance as they stood in line, they were all cocky and tough as they prepared to conquer the ride that had stolen lunches from so many kids before them.
I was worried my "little brother friend/kid" would be sick and I'd have to take him home to his dad...and I watched as they loaded into their spinning booth-car. They began to spin the wheel in the middle, making them just blurs as they went faster and faster....
About mid ride, I noticed this little ginger boy not looking so hot, head flat back against the seat-back. Mouth pointed to the outside...arms crossed around his little midsection.
"Ut-oh!" I thought to myself...
As the ride wound down, and the boys came running off the ride, I was not surprised to see my lil guy with puke splatted down the side of his T-shirt and the little Ginger boy looking pitifully up at me saying "I don't feel so good!"
"Well I don't imagine you do kid, you ate a funnel cake the size of New Jersey and then road the Pink Puker....He looked up at me from a bench he'd plopped himself on and said, "yeah, that probably wasn't a good idea".
Poor thing.
Later we all went to the Canal Commission Museum where we had the great pleasure of writing with Quill pens. I had always wanted to write with one, imagine myself a 100 years ago, with ink stained fingers, and writing in the way Jane Austen would have....but it wasn't MY experience with inked fingers that would change my perspective forever, but the scrawlings of this little freckled face kid that I barely knew, who admittedly had a mom in a crack house, that would both break my heart, and at the same time, make my heart swell with pride for the wounded kid that sat across the table from me.
I watched as he penned each word, while the other children wrote their names and silly other kid things, he wrote something so much more...
He wrote a letter to his grandma, a letter he asked ME to fold up and keep safe for him once he finished because he didn't want to lose it.
Later that day, as I sat in my truck alone, I unfolded that letter and I read:
"The End" -- he stole from me, my scrawlings were that of "Happily Ever After" and "The End"....classic story book writings I always imagined I'd write....
I'm not going to lie, I saw his little face as I read his grateful words to the one person who took him in, when he didn't have the love of a mother, the security of a world not skewed by drugs and crime and loss and instability....
And this isn't the big city, this is little ole Delphos...this is happening right here...not on the six o'clock news, not in Chicago or New York...
Right....here....Delphos....Canal days....
It broke my heart, and my eyes got all teary and I just wanted to go find him and hug him...hell "ADOPT him on the spot" was running through my head.
And there are so many kids out there, just like him, who are abandoned, dumped off on a grandparent, or Aunt, or sibling....left with a piece of their heart, forever missing, likely wondering why they couldn't have a mom like other kids, who bakes cookies and shows up at their football games and whatnot.
Earlier that day, he was saying, "I'm a ginger like you...I could be your kid"...and I didn't realize how much that meant, until reading his words, written so tender and sweet. They make me tear up even still as I write this.
I think I wasn't meant to have kids, I think it was meant to love a kid who is already here, and who needs love in the absence of their own mother.
I'll never forget his letter....which is why I wanted to share it with you, keep your eyes open, for there may just be a child out there who'll leave a mark on your heart that will last the rest of your life.
~HeatherLynn~
