FLOWERS

By

James Macon Walton

First, there was everything which came before:

Anticipation; Anxiety; Anger…

Treatment; Torment; Tears.

And…then…came…the Flowers.

These are the flowers Terentiy gave me.
They’re wilted and broken, and one’s but a weed.
They are preserved on film and will live in my memory.
Of a greater beauty, there is simply no need.

It’s OK that it was all a bit staged. I doubt the staff of the orphanage encouraged the children to pick the flowers. And those little hands, five days shy of two years old, needed help. I don’t know if they had ever picked flowers before. Even with help, between the plucking and presenting, some petals were lost.

Symbolic, perhaps?

Between birth and adoption, something is lost:

Time…Love…Nurturing,
Skinned knees and messy mouths,
First steps? First words?

The hands which helped were those of the young blond-haired girl on staff–it was her idea. I couldn’t understand the words (I don’t speak Russian), but I knew exactly what was being said:

Go pick those flowers.
Give them to Papa.
That’s Papa over there.

And Papa, who is not really Papa–at least, not yet…and, even if then, only through an act of Law and of Love–saw it all through the viewfinder of the camcorder, because Mama, who is not really Mama–at least not yet…and, even if then, only through an act of Law and of Love–is back home in Illinois with Charlie and Kathy. They will want to see too.

We knew your name before I came,
And something of your life before.
But seeing you, and holding you means more,
Oh, so very much, much more!

It will be another week before I am back home again, with video tape to watch, impressions to relate, emotions to express. Then it will be time for evaluations and decisions. The medical report of the surgery to your foot must be translated and it, together with the tape of your halting steps, will be reviewed by Dr. Downey. Objectivity to balance subjectivity. Reality to temper emotion. Decisions:

The Father who failed.
The Mother who died.
Grandparents who tried.
The effects of Chernobyl over an area so wide.

Decisions.

And if, as I’m sure it will be, the word is Yes, then,
Ah, then:

Communications.
  Reservations.
    Visas.
      Logistics.
        Travel.
          Legalities.
            New Realities.
              Adjustments.
                Announcements.
                  Adjustments.
                    Beginnings!

It is your birthday today, Terentiy. You are two years old. I cannot be with you. I am now in Moscow and you are still in Gomel. We are separated–by time and distance (nineteen hours by train!), by national origin, history, culture, language, genetics. And yet in my mind’s eye I see us together…all of us together. I see a birthday party (who cares if it’s a bit late?). I see a sheet cake decorated with the white and red and white of the Belorussian flag. Candles and ice cream. Hats and streamers. Presents and lots more video tape. Smiles, hugs, and kisses. And flowers.

I have the flowers Terentiy gave me.
I feel the love they bear.
In that love there is a life
I pray that we may share.

Happy Birthday, Terentiy, and many Happy Returns.

❀ Charles Stefan. Born, Parczew, Poland, April 4, 1987.
Arrived home (in Poland), October 22, 1987,
Arrived home (in the United States), March 7, 1988.

❀ Katherine Zofia. Born, Warsaw, Poland, September 25, 1989.
Arrived home, November 30, 1989.

❀ Terentiy Pavel. Born, Gomel, Belarus, August 17, 1991.
Arrived home, October 20, 1993.

As one who has been there (in the Before),
To those who are still there (in the Before),
I have, on occasion, dared to presume to suggest that,
No matter how great the pain you now feel,
There is,
At least for some of you, at least the possibility,
(Laws of physics notwithstanding)
Of an opposite and greater joy which awaits you.

And to you I say, Persevere!

For those of us who are no longer in the Before,
But are now caught up in the whirlwind of the After,
What is there to say?

We tend our gardens,
And marvel, in wonderment, at the beauty,
As our Flowers grow.

Moscow
August 17, 1993