The Journeys of Bumbly Bear
Page 20
Chapter 20
Life Continues
Weeks went by with few problems with Nutmeg. She was doing really well at Pleasant Valley School according to her teachers and the reports which came home with her every Friday. She was to receive academic honors at the final ceremonies of the last quarter of the year, as well as an award for helping a younger student with reading. The school had an in-school mentor program where students from grade 2 up could help younger students, and Nutmeg had been really successful in helping a first grade girl learn to enjoy reading as much as she did. She seemed to have a natural aptitude for reading herself and somehow transferred both her enthusiasm and skills to the youngster she met with twice a week.
She thoroughly enjoyed her eighth birthday and had three parties – one at the Evaluation Home with balloons and cake and games with the children there, one in the Braidon’s home complete with grandparents, presents and a lovely dinner and cake, and one at school, where Sue Braidon sent along cupcakes for the class and teacher. This was almost overwhelming for Nutmeg and she shed happy tears at each event. When she was asked why she was crying in school by a fellow student, she replied: “I never had a birthday party before and this year I got three!”
Over the next couple months we saw growth in all areas. She was a tomboy, and enjoyed climbing and running, so that the school athletics teacher suggested that she be allowed to stay after school to learn gymnastics. Nutmeg took to the sport easily: she was extremely agile and soon became, as her teacher said it, “a wicked competitor.”
Coming home one Thursday after school she pleaded with Marci:” Please, Marci, teach me how to ride a bike.” She was adamant that she needed to learn to ride so she could ride along with Kim to the neighborhood activities and parks with her new sister, Kim.
She said plaintively: “I have to walk and she has to go slow so she doesn’t lose me.” Checking with the Braidons, I learned she was telling it straight – she really did need to learn this skill to keep up with the children in the neighborhood. We gave permission for the Braidons to buy her a bike and keep it at their home, and we purchased a second-hand bike for the Children’s Garden Evaluation Home – one that had training wheels for young beginners. It didn’t take long for Nutmeg to lose the training wheels: she really didn’t need them after a couple attempts at riding.
She and sister Kim were beginning to develop genuine caring and companionship. They shared many of the same interests, though their abilities in academics were very different. Kim had to work for her grades and sometimes had difficulty learning new concepts, while Nutmeg often surpassed her in understanding despite the fact that she was a year younger. The Braidons were very good in helping both girls learn to accept and tolerate each other’s differences in ability and aptitude, and got a lot of support and help in this area from our parent support group.
I was invited to dinner with the Braidons, their girls and the grandparents one Sunday evening and was really pleased to see how cohesive this family had become. Mrs. Braidon Senior referred to Nutmeg and Kim as “God’s perfect children,” and was obviously very fond of both. Sue Braidon told me quietly she had felt it important to limit the grandmother’s spending on the girls. “She just wants them to have everything, and we feel they need to learn to work for what they get.” If this was to be the worst of their family adjustment problems, -- well, we could handle it.
After dinner the girls went out to ride their bikes to the large park next door to the grandparents’ home and the four of us retired to the patio where Sue and Jack asked: “We are wondering if Children’s Garden would allow us to pay for Nutmeg to attend the summer day camp at Strawberry Hill School this summer? Kim always goes and she really loves it. We think Katy would also enjoy it and she’d be able to make some friends of kids with whom she’ll be going to school next fall. I knew the Camp well. Located at the nearby school with a safe and secure facility, huge grassy fields, beautiful shoreline trails, multiple playground facilities and the peaceful Richardson Bay just a few steps away, Strawberry Hill Camp was a wonderful place to be in the summer. I saw no reason to refuse, but suggested that we take it to staff and Dr. Murphy before making a final decision and before discussing the possibility with Nutmeg.
“I’m afraid we can’t keep it a secret, Helen,” they said. Kim has already told Nutmeg she wants her to go. The girls brought it up to us!”
“OK, well the answer has to be “Maybe, we need the approval of Children’s Garden, her county Social Welfare unit and the doctor first.”
“Oh that’s fine. We told them we’d talk it over with you.”
I was pretty certain that Doris and Doc would approve, but never acted on my own suppositions. Something could have come up. I didn’t know about, for example, from the County Department of Social Services which still had custody over Nutmeg. Fortunately her county DSS worker left the decision to us, and as soon as school was over, Nutmeg ‘s schedule changed for awhile as she spent Monday through Friday for the next four weeks in her new home and weekends with us at the Evaluation Home. We began working in earnest toward the final full-time placement, getting everything in order with Family Court, her county Department of Social Services and our own agency. It would be two years after that final placement that we would move toward final adoption.
Finally a month later, we had a farewell party for Nutmeg at the Evaluation Home. She had been there in placement longer than any other child had ever been, and her houseparents, though happy for Nutmeg, were also sorry to lose her. The adjustment for them was difficult.
As I drove Nutmeg on her final ride to her new home, I too had some feelings of loss. Though I would see Nutmeg probably once a month or so for the next couple of years, I would lose the daily checkup times and the weekly reports from her houseparents as she entered her new world. Nutmeg, too, was very quiet as we drove the winding road over Mt. Tamapais to Mill Valley. As we reached the summit lookout, she asked me to pull over so we could have a last look at the view of the Bay together. I was happy to do so -- happy to extend our brief time together today for just a little while.
As we stood looking over the bay with the fog rolling in, but still sunshine upon the nearest white-capped waves, she took something from her pocketbook slung over her shoulder. She handed me a small package with tears in her eyes, and said “Miss Helen, I want to give you something I made for you so you won’t ever forget me. I won’t ever forget you. Go ahead. Open it. I hope you like it.”
Inside the small bakery box was a precious pair of earrings made from tiny shells and silver beads. I hugged this little girl who had stolen my heart.
“Nutmeg, they are lovely -- just beautiful. How did you make them?”
“Kim and I took a beading class at camp, and one Friday night we walked on the beach and gathered shells, and when we went home my Dad drilled holes in the shells for me. Mom and Kim helped me. I strung the beads and the shells all by myself, but I needed help with the silver wires to make the loopy thing you put in your ears.” She looked up questioning: “You really like them?”
I took out the earrings I had and put on her little creations. Then I picked her up and swung her around, hugging tightly. “I love, love, love them, Nutmeg. I will always cherish them!”
Though I wasn’t really ready to let go, I knew we should go. “Come on, sweetheart, we have to get you home,” I said.
“I know, and I want to go, but I don’t want to go, too. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I surely do -- but let’s get on our way,” I replied, gently leading her back to the car. Neither of us said a word as we drove on, though each of us reached over to pat the other as we went our way down the mountain’s curvy road.
As we drove into the driveway, we heard Buffy barking, and quickly saw the family waiting once more to greet their new daughter.
“This is it Nutmeg,” I said as I handed her the lovebird in its cage. She took it solemnly and placed it
next to the other lovebirds on the perch to the right of us.
“There you go, Peaches. Now you have a new family, too,” she said.
We hugged briefly once more and with tears in my eyes, I walked her to her new Mom and Dad and sister Kim.
“She’s yours now,” I said.
“Forever?” she looked up at me, tears streaming down her little face.
“Yes, Nutmeg. It’s forever.”
We all had a big group hug, and I took my leave as the family went into the sparkling kitchen.
There are no words to explain such feelings: It’s a strange wild mixture of joy, sadness, exhaustion and relief as we finally place a child in a “forever home.”