by TJ Fox
I look back around the clearing and notice a small overhang behind one of the rocks. I go over and dig as much of the dirt out from under it as I can and place the urn inside. The kids come over and help me push the dirt over it and pack it into place.
We walk back to the edge, holding each other and watch the sun go down. I realize that it was a week ago today that I first met them, and we started on this journey together. It seems like it should have been so much longer than that. An entire lifetime, really.
When the sun has dropped just below the horizon, we walk back to the car and head home.
Epilogue
Six Years Later
Sitting at my desk in my office, I flip through the journal Sam recommended I start keeping during one of our first appointments. It was supposed to help me recognize and deal with my feelings at a time when I was so focused on the kids’ emotions and needs, I often missed my own or pushed them aside and denied them, preventing me from doing my own healing. It helped, but it also turned into a written history of the family we became.
I walk through the memories of those early days and our struggles and accomplishments. Remembering how hard it was for the kids to find the boxes of pictures and keepsakes and holiday decorations their mom and Dylan had kept. Every one of those pictures is still hanging on the walls today, but it took a couple of years before they were ready to use the holiday decorations, as the memories were still too painful for them.
I’m reminded how long it took B to quit having nightmares, to finally be comfortable out of my shadow and spending time alone. It is a stark contrast to the now fiercely independent twelve-year-old he has become, following in his older brother’s footsteps with his own love of soccer.
It took us a while, but we learned to function as a family. Talking became hugely important. While I may have acted as a parent and an authority figure, because of their ages when they came to me, I fit better as a friend or an older sister. It made it easier for them to be able to come to me. It was never easy, and we had our issues, but we found our roles eventually.
Simone and I grew incredibly close because we had art and creativity as a bond. We still try to do our museum or art show events once a month if our schedules allow it.
Turning the page, I have to laugh at my entry about when Riff started talking about girls. He allowed me to go through ten incredibly awkward minutes of trying to give him the talk using vague euphemisms and dumb analogies before he couldn’t take it anymore and busted out laughing, tears streaming down his face. It took him nearly five minutes to calm down enough to where he could talk, only to tell me that Dylan had already told him what he needed to know. The little shit. I told him that was fine, just be sure to wrap it up.
I got him back over the next month by leaving condoms in the most random and embarrassing places. He once had one fall out of his math book while standing in the hall at school trying to chat with his crush. That didn’t go over well, so I stuck to just hiding them at home. Our sense of humor meshes too well for him to have actually gotten mad at me. I just felt bad that I’d embarrassed the girl.
It was absolutely a sunshine moment though. We have had more than a fair share of those over the years. Riff’s graduation from high school and then starting college where he met his best friend, Rick. And Rick’s dad, Brad, who got a kick out of the story of Dylan introducing B and my misunderstanding his name. Well, at least he did after I stopped laughing long enough to explain it to him. Then there was the day Simone won a scholarship to a major art school. There are so many big and little accomplishments the three of them have made over the years.
I turn to a blank page after my little memory lane walk. My heart is so full today, I want to ensure I keep a big piece of it in this journal because it is such a part of who we have all become.
Brad and I got married today, June 14th. It wasn’t a big event. We had the wedding in our back yard. He had moved in with us right after his proposal last Thanksgiving. Of course, I said yes. Any man who is capable of coming into this odd little family and finding his place without issue or jealousy among those kids, one who understands my love for them the way he does, so fully and without question, belongs in that spot at my side.
It was even the middle of the week. When we were discussing dates, he was the one that suggested the day. He said that since it was a day full of such meaning and change for me in the past, that we should stick with what works because, even though it didn’t exactly start out good, what came out of it was beautiful. He wanted the same thing for our future. Choosing today was a way for us to acknowledge the kids’ place in our lives. Who could say no to that?
Russ gave me away. Simone and Jules stood with me, and Rick and Riff stood with Brad. Jorie and B were our flower girl and ring bearer. It’s funny how the majority of our guests were in our wedding party. The boys had their girlfriends here, and the rest of Jules’ family, my chosen family, also came, so we had a couple of people to sit and watch.
You would think that marrying the man you love would be the defining moment on your wedding day, but those kids stole the show. After the ceremony, Riff stood up and read a speech that he, Simone and B wrote that had all of us in tears. He gave me a copy when he was done. When I came in here to add it to my journal, I couldn’t help but look back at what brought me to today. I know I will come back to it again many times over the years.
Teri,
You came into our lives in the worst possible way. Because Dylan had talked about you before that day, we knew a little about you, but it wasn’t much. Thinking back, we realize he was trying to prepare us, but things didn’t work out the way he planned. Things rarely do.
We didn’t plan on you. We didn’t ask for you. Some of us, i.e. me, didn’t want you. Not then. But we got you anyway.
You came in and took us on and made us yours in every way. You stuck by us when there was no one left, when all we had was each other. You stood up for us and fought to keep us together when we needed it the most. You held us through our tantrums and our tears. You held us together when all we wanted was to fall apart. You refused to let us go. You refused to leave us alone.
Just like you made us yours, you became ours. Our rock, our safe spot in the storm, our home. You became mother, sister and friend. You filled every role that needed to be filled, and you did it with your whole heart.
We want you to know that you are ours and, like you, we will never leave. We will always be here for you, that we love you with all that we are, and we always will. As hard as it all was and as much as it hurt, we couldn’t ask for better.
Brad is a lucky man to have grabbed your heart. I don’t think he realizes that once you give it, he better hang on for the ride because you hold on tight and never let go.
Thank you. For never letting go.”
My kids make me proud every day, but today, my heart is overflowing with them.
I look at my name written at the top and think about us. The family we created. I was never called mom, though I did mom things, like nagging at them to brush their teeth or do their homework and clean their rooms. We never talked about adoption or name changes or anything like that. We didn’t need them. For me, to want those things would be like asking them to change who they were, and I didn’t want them any other way than the way I had them.
I see them growing up and becoming who they were meant to be. Riff talking medical school. Simone looking to art school, and B still just enjoying being on the edge of his teenage years and not old enough to really worry about any of that just yet.
There has been way more sunshine than shit along the way. We made it through hell and became a unique and wonderful family. One that just grew by two, adding Brad and Rick to our quirky mix. It may not be what other people would want or how they would do it, but I’ve never concerned myself with what other people think. It works for us. Like Riff said in his speech, I couldn’t ask for bett
er.
Acknowledgments
When my crazy muse dropped this project on my head, I thought, “Sure. Let’s see where this goes.” I never expected it to actually get here. I never would have made it to here without some help from some truly wonderful and amazing people.
First and always, my Hubby, Keith. Not only did my non-reader husband support and encourage me in this project, he took the time to read. Something he hasn’t chosen to do since high school, unless it was sports, stats, or work related. He read this not just once or twice, but several times, giving me much needed feedback, early edits and proofreading. He also took my nearly daily calls for grammar advice. And coffee. I cannot forget the pots and pots of coffee he made for me. Thank you for sharing. I know you didn’t want to.
My editor, Steve Parolini. I’m certain that there was at least once (and probably many more than that) when he was cussing at me in his head at my stubbornness, but he put up with me enough to help me make this so much better than it started, even if I was kicking and screaming all the way. If there are any remaining mistakes in this book, they are due to that stubborn nature and no fault of his. Thank you, from the very bottom of my heart for tapping into some of your own life experiences to help me bring authenticity to my characters, even if it wasn’t the easiest experience. Luck was with me the day I tripped across your website, and I could not have picked a better person for this project.
My friend, hero, beta reader and proofreader, Lauren. When I was frustrated, hurt and desperate, you stepped up and offered your time, expertise, feedback and friendship when I needed it the most. Then, you did it again, at a time when you were dealing with so much yourself. Your offer and generosity helped to soothe a place in me that had been feeling raw and renewed my faith that there are still people in this world that are capable of being generous and kind with no expectations.
My kids, who make me laugh and cry and fill my life with more drama than a parent should have to endure. L & W, you make me proud every single day and make me feel like I’ve finally done something right. W, I’m done crying while writing, and, no, I really haven’t lost my mind. Yet.
About the Author
TJ is a slightly sane artist, amateur photographer, book addict, wife and mom who has more hobbies than she can count, so it is beyond shocking that she manages to find time to do any of them, let alone most of them and still have time to do anything else. Of all the talents she claims, writing wasn’t one of them until her muse dropped the idea for a book on her head.
You can find TJ and her creative dumping ground on her blog, tjfox.net.
