Thanks-Giving Item # 1 Getting to Meet My Son

Today is Thanksgiving Day up here north of the 49th parallel and so I got to thinking about all the things I am thankful for in my reunion.

Perhaps you are left wondering, after my last post, would I do it again if I knew it was going to take the path it has recently.

I don’t even have to think about the answer to that one. It is: Yes!

So all this week I am going to make a list of things I was and still am thankful for.

Number One on the list is: I got to meet my son. I feel like I want to write that in capital letters. I GOT TO MEET MY SON.

I was never sure that was going to happen, although that was the plan from adoption day 1. I am oh so glad that I did get to meet him.

It was such a healing experience for me and contrary to the current stand being taken by my son, I know it was healing for him too.

I know who he is, I know where he is, I know how he is. I know he looks like my father and like me. I know sometimes he sounds just like his father, has his father’s turn of phrase and did even before he met him. I know he is smart and that we have the same sense of humour.

Yep I’m very thankful that I know all that and even if I end up just watching his life from afar, I always will be.

Peace and Happy Thanksgiving

UM

A tree on an island in the middle of a river…

On the morning of September 11th, 2001, I was in the city sitting at my desk when my husband phoned to tell me that something had happened in New York. One of the people in his office was on the phone with someone in one of the towers when the plane hit.

I was late for a meeting with my boss and so we didn’t talk for very long. But what he told me was troubling and so when I got to the meeting I was distracted and apologized for my difficulty in focusing. My boss had not yet heard the news.

As the day went on, the full horror of what happened in New York became clearer and when I heard that a plane had also ploughed into the Pentagon I knew that the U.S. was under attack.

All day at work, we watched television on and off, shocked and stunned.

We all knew that that was the day the world had changed forever.

I planted a tree to honour the people who died that day. A blue spruce because that is one of my favourites. It sits just above our cottage located on an island in the middle of the river that runs between Canada and the U.S.

This is a picture of the tree.

I often thought about writing to somebody down there to tell them there was this little memorial but I could never figure out, or more accurately decide, who that would be.

Peace!

UM