Yesterday I finally got to meet the twins my cousin adopted from Ghana and hear the incredibly beautiful story of bringing their family together. It was about five years ago that she, her husband and their three children realized that there were twins half way across the world waiting to be the final stitch in their family. After two years, they travelled together to finally bring them home and become complete. I would love to share with you the whole story but that is theirs, and it is so so special that I wouldn't want to mess up on any of the details.
As we talked about the first time they got to meet the twins in person, my cousin described the feeling of hugging her daughter for the first time. She can recall every sense experience that was engaged in that moment and it is something she will carry with her forever. Tears streamed down my face as I recalled so vividly having that experience the first time I held Asbanu in my arms, a hug that changed my life. Her scent as she nestled deep into my shoulder, the feeling of the her cotton dress that was pilling from age. Her thin arms and legs wrapped around me, how light she was and easy to pick up despite her age. I remember the feel of her hair, dry and brittle from malnutrition and how dirty the shampoo became as I scrubbed it for the first time. How surprised her bright eyes were when she realized I was going to wash her feet myself and how rough her little feet were in my hands. The feeling of realizing stitches were being made, knitting our lives together.
I struggle with wanting to know right now every plan that is store for these children and my life. However, a lesson worth learning is that patience and faith are old friends with time. More often than not in my life plans are revealed slowly. But oh how I ache for this:
I may not be a mommy (to her or any of the children) and I don't know what the future holds but that was the moment that I knew this, this was meant to be.