Mary still looked troubled and down all through breakfast. "You okay?"
"I'm going to call it a day with the teaching."
"But you love teaching." We'd had this conversation a few days ago. "I know you said you were thinking about this, but I thought it was just the travelling that was the problem?"
"It is, but you said yourself I didn't need to work."
"I also said that I wasn't sure if you could stay at home all day just being a housewife. What will you do, you're not one for the gossip over the fence."
"I don't know, maybe do some gardening." I shook my head in disbelief.
After mainstream school, Mary quit and became a private teacher. She said spending one-on-one time with each pupil made it worthwhile, made her feel like she was accomplishing something.
We can't have children of our own. Mary got pregnant shortly after we were married... she was so excited. Unfortunately that was as good as it got for her, the child was stillborn. That in its self nearly killed her. However, shortly afterwards she started getting what she thought were cramps, so she went to see the doctor. She was told she had Ovarian cancer. That took away one of the reasons for her to feel she was a woman. Our house became a war zone, I even dreaded coming home from work because of the arguments. Eventually, I convinced her to see a counsellor. As time went by, she finally started talking about going back into teaching. Instead of going into the mainstream school system, she became a private teacher. I guess that made Mary feel like she was looking after her own child.
I love Mary with all my heart; not being able to have children will never change that. But with Mary stepping outside of her safety zone, that's a worry.
The following day, Tuesday, I said it was about time I went to the office. That set-off a trail of events that would last well into the weekend and beyond. Asking her to consider her options amounted to treason. Our home was not the calm, collected place it'd always been.
The house was like a mortuary, very few words were spoken except for the usual what's to eat or drink, and an occasional hello. Tenterhooks would best describe the atmosphere in the house. I was worried about what seemed like Mary giving up her whole life's work because of travelling. Mary, on the other hand, being a determined woman was not about to let someone tell her what she could or couldn't do. This was the biggest problem we'd faced since Mary lost her ability to have children. The strain was beginning to show. So after one wholly charged argument, we sat down and finally talked. To say we cleared the air would be an understatement.
Monday morning took an age to get here, but even with my concern for Mary, I knew that I would need to go to the office. The afternoon was no quicker. Dinner was painful, but we did make some conversation. That night unable to sleep, an idea started forming that may, as they say, kill two birds with one stone. The idea seemed so far out it just might work. What had been happening at home prompted the thought.
Tuesday morning I took a walk to the orphanage. There sitting in their 'safe spot' were Tracy and Alan. My footsteps were a give-away, "Mr Owen," he shouted.
"Hello there, little man. Pray tell who have you upset today?" I said trying not to laugh, but without success... again
"I've been good, honest."
"You still reading all the old books?" I said as I patted him on the head.
"There's no more books for me to read. I like reading. I even read to the other kids."
"My little musketeer will be reading better than me if I don't watch out." That gained me a smile. Oh, the resilience of youth! "I want to see Mrs. Walters. You won't miss me too much, will you?" Where do kids manage to find all the expressions that give an answer? Maybe we all should work on that I thought and smiled to myself.
I took the path to the front door and knocked. A little boy answered the door. "Hello, Sir, may I help you?" Kneeling, I said, "I would like to speak to Mrs. Walters, please." After running wildly through the house, he returned with Kathy holding his hand.
"Mr. Owen, nice to see you. Please come in. How may I help you?" After I'd been greeted by everyone, we went into a small study-like room and sat down in two chairs a little distance apart. "How may I help you, Mr. Owen?"
"Jeff, please."
Without beating about the bush, I asked, "Can you tell me how I could have Alan and Tracy come live at my home permanently?" The conversation drifted to the difference between children's homes and orphanages. Which I was told were basically the same, only the way people referred to them being the difference.
"The easiest way would be to apply to become a foster parent. That in itself can take time and be stressful, but can in certain circumstances lead up to the possibility of more children, with a maximum of six coming into your care. That would depend on what care level you wanted to go to." Coffee was brought in, then we continued our conversation. It was well after lunch before our talk ended and I left with a goodbye to all the kids. On the way home I wondered if I would have the stamina to go through all the interviews and courses. Then there was Mary.
When I got home Mary was sitting on the front porch drinking lemon tea. Mary followed me into the house. I got a Powerade from the fridge then sat at the breakfast table. Telling her about Alan and Tracy was going to be easy, trying to convince her about the idea of fostering, and the work involved would be more difficult.
I started what can only be described as my greatest performance. Mary sat listening intently.
"Why don't we consider becoming foster parents? I know it won't be the same as having our own child, but I know we would love him or her as if they were. Becoming a foster parent means that you could still teach and still be around children." Mary looked more than a little upset. I held her till she calmed down. "We would need to set up an appointment with a social worker to begin the process." I knew this was going to be very difficult for her to really come to terms with, but it would solve some of the problems she had and was going through. "Having children around the house would be a blessing in disguise."
Mary looked up. "Why? Why fostering? I thought you were happy with just the two of us."
"I love you enough to give you something you can't have. You need children as much as I need you. Consider it, Mary, please." She put her arms around my neck and kissed me so tenderly that I knew we were one again.
"I love you," she said, then held me with all the love she had. Dinner was different that evening compared to just the occasional word of yesterday. Becoming foster parents, giving Mary a purpose, things couldn't get any better. We sat on the back porch with a drink of wine enjoying the night sky. A mist began to fall. We finished our drinks and made our way to the stairs hand in hand. I went to sleep knowing that my Mary was content and happy again.
The next couple of days saw a flurry of activity. Contacting a social worker with the hope of getting a reply was like pulling teeth. Eventually a visit by the social worker was arranged for Tuesday of the following week.
Friday evening I took Mary out for a meal. Mary was like a kid with a new toy; she seemed back to her old self. The conversation was again taken up by becoming foster parents. I knew that all the time we were going to use was going to be well worth the effort. After the meal, I paid the bill and we went for a stroll to take in the night air.
Saturday I bought a street map from the book store. I studied it till I found a route around to the back of the orphanage. I even went out in the car to check it. Sunday, my lifelong partner and I went to the park using a different route. I parked just short of the entrance to the park. Just off the street was a pathway. After opening the gate, I walked across the grass. That led to another pathway which led down the back of the houses. I opened the large wooden gate and walked into the garden at the rear of the orphanage. I made my way to the front, where I saw Alan and Tracy in their usual spot. I kept on the grass as I walked up to them. I put my finger to my lips when Tracy saw me. Standing behind Alan, I spoke, "Hello there." He nearly jumped out of his skin. "Got ya!!" He turned so quick he nearly fell over.
"You cheated." Tracy fell to the ground laughing, which didn't help. It was a good thing I was the adult. Going by the expressions I was getting, I was being hung, drawn, and quartered. Eventually his sister's laughter became contagious. "I'm gonna get you," he said.
"You wouldn't hurt little 'ol me, would you?" His evil grin spoke a thousand words. Kathy Walters must have thought we were all crazy when she came to see what the commotion was. Alan gave his hurt look when she got to us, which made everyone start laughing again. Busted....
Explaining to Mrs Walters what all the commotion was about was really difficult, as keeping a straight face was impossible. Alan came around eventually. He knew he'd been outdone.
"I think we're gonna have to improve your hearing," I said. Again, if looks could kill, I'm in deep trouble. Mary gave me one of those looks. You know the one. ''Leave him alone and pick on someone your own size.'
The afternoon seemed to go too quickly with all the fun and frolics. Alan seemed a little out of sorts, but laughed and joked with all of us. Kathy asked if we would stay for dinner. I was about to refuse when Tracy came over with a hopeful look on her face that begged me to accept. When I nodded, I got a really big smile. During the meal Alan participated in the conversation and even smiled, but you could see that something was wrong.
After we'd eaten, I went outside to take in some fresh air, asking Alan to join me. Taking hold of his hand, we walked over to his favourite spot and sat down. In as tender a voice as I could muster, I asked what was troubling him.
"It's nothing, Sir."
"Sir? What happened to Mr Owen?"
"Err, Mr Owen, I know you said being blind was not the end of the world. My sister is always around, but I want her to have friends, not look after me all the time. I'll always be the kid that can't see. The blind boy." Old head on young shoulders came to mind. With that thought, I wondered if he was a young child at all. He should still be able to be one, not old before his time.
Putting my hand on his shoulder and pulling him into my side, I spoke, "Let me tell you a story." With nothing more than a glance he nodded.
"I heard this story a long time ago.
"A blind boy sat on the steps of a building with a hat at his feet. There was a sign lying by his feet that read: I am blind, please help. There were only a few coins in the hat. A man walking by took a few coins from his pocket and dropped them in the hat. He then picked up the sign, turned the sign over, and wrote some words. Again he laid the sign at the boys feet so everyone could see what had been written.
"Soon the hat began to fill up. A lot more people were giving money to the blind boy. That afternoon the man who had changed the sign came to see how things were. The boy recognized his footsteps and asked, "Were you the one who changed my sign this morning? What did you write?
"The man said, "I only wrote the truth. I said what you said, but in a different way."
What he had written was: Today is a beautiful day, but I cannot see it. Alan looked a little confused when I finished the story.
"If you see being blind as a curse, you start to feel sorry for yourself, then your disability has power over you. Bad things happen to good people, but we have to try and live with them. Let people see it's not affecting you, that you can do anything you want, even if you can't see. Do you understand?" After a few moments of thought, he wrapped his arms around me and nodded. After a few minutes he lifted his head. I swear I saw his face glow.
The most beautiful thing is to see a person smiling... And even more beautiful is knowing that you are the reason behind it!!!
Do you think the first sign and the second sign were saying the same thing?
Both signs told people the boy was blind. But the first sign simply said the boy was blind. The second sign told people they were so lucky that they were not blind. Should we be surprised that the second sign was more effective?
When life gives you a 100 reasons to cry, show life that you have 1000 reasons to smile. Face your past without regret. Handle your present with confidence. Prepare for the future without fear. Leave the fear behind.
To Be Continued....
Get well soon Bob. Glad the surgery went okay.
(Note: Bob is a Desert Storm Veteran and recently underwent surgery as a result. -- Ted)