I don’t know why, but it is always on birthdays I am reminded in stark detail of the price adoption has extracted from my family. Luke is perhaps the smartest of all my children. Don’t get me wrong, Matthew and Poppy are wicked brilliant, but Luke is in a class all of his own. And I think because of this intelligence, he is much more aware of what is missing. To his creative and never-still mind, my lost daughter is more than just a ghost but is a very real and very much alive sister. He is keenly aware of her absence in our home, around our dinner table, and in his life. He longs for her. He pines to know her.
But adoption. It always comes back to adoption.
A few months ago, he said he would wait until he was 62 if that’s how long it took to finally meet his sister. I pray to God (if there be a God) he doesn’t have to wait that long.