Goodnight Moon

I am not sure if this post requires a Kleenex warning or not. I can tell you, I have finished off a box of Kleenex and moved on to a roll of toilet paper.

Our adoption journey has a parallel story or maybe a predecessory journey that has helped me prepare for our Adoption Journey in the most amazing and, well... serendipitous way.

"Serendipity. Look for something, find something else, and realize that what you've found is more suited to your needs than what you thought you were looking for." - Lawrence Block

As the story goes, I wanted a baby. It was last November when it all started. We had just begun considering the adoption process, and we didn't have any idea how long it would all take. But my maternal instincts were so strong. I was desperately in need of a baby.

Only weeks, maybe days, after Trent and I first discussed adoption, we were approaching Christmas and my mom talked about how her friend had some puppies that would make great Christmas gifts. The idea was for other people, not for me. My mom hadn't intended for me to take this suggestion personally. But before we ended our phone conversation, I wanted a puppy.

I wanted a puppy, the puppy should be little and cute, and should be mine. I didn't know how instrumental she would be in distracting me from the wait in our adoption.

In just a day or two, my mom managed to get me pictures of this little puppy, a girl, (so tiny) that would be mine. I immediately drew the conclusion that as difficult as the wait would be for a puppy, whose picture I held in my hand; how much more difficult would the wait be for a child when I held that picture in my hand.

I printed out the pictures and carried them with me and decided on a name. Before we knew Tamene we called him Baby Kashi... I thought to name the puppy Kashi, but the name had been assigned it's purpose and she would need another. I stuck with the food pattern and she would be named Luna. (Kashi bars and Luna bars, my favorite standby food for triathlons, trips to Africa, and your basic "make it through the morning snack").

Luna's picture in hand, I waited for her to arrive. The wait seemed long and I was so excited. I frequently noted my excitement and wondered how I would ever make it through the wait for a child if I was barely making it through the wait for this bundle of puppy.

At last she arrived. And she loved me. She followed me and was always near by. She was sneaky and loved to steal things and hide them under a chair or table. Before company would visit I knew to remove the random pieces of papers, toys, socks, underwear and other items she had stolen and moved into hiding. Though I never minded. I loved her and the cuteness was worth the inconvenience.

She really belonged to both Angelisa and I. Only responding to us in our plea to have her come so we might take her out or settle her in for the night. I was proud when she didn't go to other people. She knew she was my dog and she would come to me no matter what.

Last night serendipity set in. We lost Luna, her short life and even shorter time with us had come to an end. She came in to help me through the wait. She prepared me for the experience and then as quickly as she stole my heart it was broken.

In the moment of loss I realized just how this little dog had prepared me for so much. Prepared me for the wait. Knowing what it would be like to look at a picture and to fall in love before meeting. And that the bond could be immediate and binding with only one glance.

She prepared me for the tornado that can come in a small package. She always created more drama and had more needs than the big dog, Meadow, and some days even more than the children combined.

She was cautious, she looked to me to make it ok, she always stayed near by, I never wondered where she was, always with me, sometimes so near I couldn't see her.

I loved this little dog. I loved her, and I was proud of her. Proud that she was cute and wild, but most of all that she loved me. Sassy, she was so sassy. She knew how to get attention. Every morning she would come to me for petting and love before she could do anything else, so adorable. Most mornings I would stop everything to hold her for several minutes or until Trent asked if I planned to go to work.

Tamene was afraid of her at first, but they interacted. She was somehow different now that he had arrived. A little grown up and a little more demanding. It seemed that there would be either a battle of the hierarchy or a passing of the torch. Just the night before Tamene and Luna had called a truce and he kissed her... from fear of her to kissing her in just days. And that was it. It seemed she approved and there wouldn't be a battle of the hierarchy, just acceptance, and later we would see a passing of the torch.

We have lost our little Luna, the 6 pound puppy who could create a tornado or take down the big dog as needed, make Trent fall in love with her (the little rat that she was)... and overcome her own fears to allow another human to find a moment of peace and accomplishment in allowing them to pet her.

So much of this seems to prepare us for our 3 year old tornado, who seems to come to me for comfort. Tamene, awaking this morning as I type, coming for his love, and ensuring he got his hug and planted a big kiss on Mommy.

I loved Luna. Loved. I just wanted a puppy, I just wanted to be a mommy. I couldn't bear the wait to Tamene alone. I needed a partner, though not often silent in voice, always right there to comfort my anxiety or fears or bring a smile in the times of worry and impatience. She was sent as a gift with a purpose. She offered more than I ever could have asked or dreamed and then she was gone. As timely as she arrived, she left. Not without making her parting peace with the little boy who stole my heart from her.

Tamene leans to kiss her on the nose, as afraid as he was of the little dog, a kiss. I witnessed the kiss and I did know everything would be ok. I wish she didn't have to leave us, I wish she could have stayed, but as an angel comes to comfort and then leaves you when you are strong, so did little Luna.

Goodnight Moon.