Thursday, August 16, 2007

A door closes

I should be packing right now. I should be taking the pictures off the wall and stowing them. I should be purging paper and folders but I can't focus on even such a simple task.

You want to believe that there's a plan and that the universe is guiding you along to some goal. When I look in E's eyes I believe we were destined. Then and now I got the paperwork ready. Clearances and evaluations fly across towns and get stamps of gold seal and ribbons of officialdom. Each delay meant the celestial clock ticked closer to the appointed hour. Now, I fly through the papers, no hitches. Everything runs smooth and efficiently. We approach that magical referral moment and tragedy strikes.

The agency is raided. Fourty-six children are confiscated like illegal drugs. Fourty-six children linked forever to families across the globe. That could have been me. That could have been my child. My heart aches and I feel lucky and guilty. The bureaucracy frightens me as it never had before. Politicians are cracking down they say. What is the truth? The description of the orphanage sounds nothing like the happy, clean place that I visited. None of it makes sense to me.

I pray for the children and the day the families will be reuinted. Guatemala is a beautiful and dangerous place.

It will be a long time before I go back and I wonder if I'll ever tell E about any of this. I suspect I won't tell him much at all.

Time to pack.

4 comments:

TigerYogi said...

Count your blessings Hon. That's all you can do in a situation like this...

((HUGS))

Cooper said...

Hugging you from afar. May all those children be safe and loved.

RIC said...

I'm so sorry, dear Brian, that so much less happy is happening right now.
Confiscating children sounds like treating them as anything but human beings in need of love and affection... You know my knowledge of English is what it is: whenever the speech is of a more intimate nature, I do stumble... But I believe I got most of it...
I wish you, E, and your plans all the best, dear Brian!
Hugs! :-)

Terri@SteelMagnolia said...

OH... no... that's awful