Since Tuesday one week ago, Heather’s family has been coping with an unimaginable tragedy. A tragedy no family should have to face, one no parent should ever have to endure. A tragedy I don’t think we can really ever understand.
Six weeks after Heather’s cousin, Karen Stasko, died of cancer, Karen’s 34 year old brother, Eric Bonde, ended his own life.
Heather’s aunt and uncle, now have only memories of their children. And Heather, her parents and sister, have only photos and stories.
There are some who will condemn Eric’s action, some who will blame his parents or friends, some who will claim that he was selfish or weak and some who will damn him forever. Anyone who does this, does so out of ignorance or malice, and in the Johnson family, there is no room for either.
Despite family issues that everyone has, the Bonde family and the Johnson family are the tightest, most loving I have ever known. They are generous in the ways that matter, they are generous in love. They have deep faith and all of us know that Karen and Eric are together, in a better place, watching over the entire family, with warmth and love.
There is nothing that can replace your children, and as a father of 4 year olds and a 4 month old, I can not even allow myself to imagine that loss. Even conjuring it as a possibility is too much to bear. I am unable to imagine how Karen and Eric’s mother and father will go forward, although I know they will.
I choose to look to the future with hope for my babies. And if there is anything that tells me that hope is reasonable, it’s in seeing K&O playing with the other kids at the Bonde’s house, in the beautiful fall New England sunlight. And watching Eric’s mother adore Meera’s squeal of delight and hearing the stories of friends and family as they remember Eric in the most important ways. With love.
We will never really know what brought Eric to that place, but we know his suffering is over and he is now at peace
Thank you to everyone who checked in on us during our blogging break, we appreciate it very very much.
~Heather
Dear Readers,
Well, I’m getting another round of hate mail (or, I guess I should say “hate comments”) on my “Adoption Stuff” post below. Often when I’m writing posts that aren’t just ‘this-is-what-we-did-today’-posts I fret in my heart as I click “publish” on Blogger… because I just know those anonymous hateful hurtful comments will probably come pouring in. Folks, I’ve gotta say: I do sometimes wonder why we make this blog public. I think about just stopping it all together. But then I think about the hundreds of people out there who have found some kind of solace/inspiration/interest in our stories –and I think about people and families who have inspired us along our own journey– and I keep plugging away. I don’t know how long we’ll keep doing it though, it is hard to stay strong to put ourselves out there like this. As for the post below…. I’m rejecting the anonymous hate mail and not publishing the anonymous hurtful comments. They are just too nasty to validate them by clicking “publish.” I just need to say, though, for the record: we know a lot about the details of our sons’ births. We do not share these details. Until K & O are old enough to handle all the information, Braydon and I will remain the only people outside of Haiti who know the whole story of our boys. Trust me when I say: our boys were not breastfed. On another note: we’re trying hard to teach our four-year-olds that age-old golden rule: do unto others as you would have done unto you. To all of you Hate Mail Writers out there– please try to remember this golden rule yourselves as you’re reading our blog.
Thanks, Heather
A few nights ago I was getting Owen ready for bed. He was being his silly self and he was saying, “I want to be a girl! Then I would pee on the potty sitting down!” Then he’d giggle and pretend to pee on the potty sitting down, etc. Typical Owen. But then his tone suddenly took a dramatic turn. Sitting face-to-face with me in the bathroom he looked me right in the eyes and said, “When you send me back to Haiti I will tell my birthmother that I want to be borned again but as a girl next time. That’s what I’m going to say to my birthmother when you send me back to Haiti.” Huge gulp. What? “Send me back to Haiti?” How on earth did he even come up with this phrase, let alone this thought?? It is stunning. And you just can’t be prepared for that. No matter how prepared you are, it just hits you like a ton of bricks. A ton of bricks.
A couple of days ago we were outside playing in the backyard on a beautiful sunny day. Out of the blue Kyle says, “When I was borned that was my birthday.” I said, “Yes!” Then he said, “When I was borned I was not here. I don’t know who caught me. I wanted to be borned from my mommy but I wasn’t. It was my birthmother. And it was so, so scary. It was dark and me and Owen were in there. And you didn’t come for me mommy. You didn’t. You took too long.” O.k., Oh. My. God. Again, a ton of bricks. I don’t care how much you know about this stuff, when it is your kid, and they’re saying it right to you, it is astonishing. Just astonishing. Awhile later, as he was running off to the trampoline, he looked back at me over his shoulder and shouted out: “Am I in this family forever? Or no?” Of course I shouted back, “Yes! Forever! Forever and ever and ever!” He stopped, turned back to face me, looked at me, and said, “So, are you my mommy forever and ever? Or will I have to have another mommy?” It doesn’t matter how many millions of times we’ve assured them of these things. Their questions still remain. Their uncertainty seems to be forever in tact. You try to convince yourself that the good thing is (the proof that you’re doing a good job is) that he’s verbalizing this stuff to you. You try to tell yourself that its all good because it reveals that he’s able to put this stuff out there to you. He trusts you to say it to you. You say this to yourself, but you can’t help but feel totally flabbergasted. How could he even question the permanence of my mothering? How?
7:40 a.m. During breakfast the phone rings. It is MorFar and he asks right away to speak with Kyle. He’s calling to tell Kyle that the Red Sox won 4-1 against the Angels in Game 1 of the American League Division Series last night. What Kyle semi-‘gets’ is that the Red Sox won a big game. What Kyle fully-‘gets’ is that MorFar has called just for him. Thus, the absolutely precious (and priceless) lit-up look on his face and in his eyes.
We have a pretty amazing pediatrician. We credit her with medically saving Kyle and Owen. She did an incredible job working with us to get K & O on track and healthy when they first came home from Haiti. I mean, seriously incredible. Given her track record with us, we pretty much go with whatever she says/recommends/advises where our kids’ health is concerned. But I was still very skeptical when, at our last well-baby visit with Meera, she told me that her prediction was that Meera would be “ready for rice cereal as soon as she turns four months old.” I told Braydon that I wanted to wait until Meera was at least five months old, if not six months old — despite the fact that we usually don’t question Dr. Aleks. But I should have known! Dr. Aleks is always right on. A few days before Meera turned four months old she started showing obvious signs of interest in food. She started staring at me intently when I’d eat my lunch each day. I’d notice her staring at the boys when they’d eat snacks around her. And then she started reaching for our food when we’d be eating around her. A couple of days ago I was eating yogurt and she was grasping for it. I let her get a tiny smidge of a taste of it in her mouth (a speck of yogurt that I let her suck off my finger). She loved it and couldn’t stop grabbing toward my spoon to try to get more into her mouth. She’s also just recently started resisting sitting in her black Bjorn chair at our mealtimes. She’d fuss until Braydon and I would hold her on our lap… and then be totally content. She clearly just wanted to be right at the table with the rest of us. So, we set up one of the boys’ old hook-on chairs (we never used high chairs for them when they were babies, just these chairs — thanks to the awesome advice of our friend Robin). K & O are thrilled to have Meera right with us at the table now. And, I bought some rice cereal and we made big plans for last night to be “Meera’s First Food!!!!” (this was a big huge deal for K & O). They couldn’t wait for the grand event– the feeding of “baby rice” to “Baby Meera.” She was quite ambivalent about ‘baby rice.’ And she did not like K & O sticking the spoon into her mouth (I didn’t get photos of that because I was too busy trouble-shooting to be photo-shooting). But it was a lot of fun for Braydon to try to feed her some. Tonight I tried my hand at it. Very little (if any) was actually swallowed on either night, but still… a huge step forward for our baby girl. Bittersweet… as all of these sorts of steps are.
Kyle & Owen’s “nanny” Alex has been babysitting for us regularly for over two years. She’s amazing in a million different ways. October 17 – 19 Alex will be walking 60 miles over 3 days to help raise money for the Susan G. Komen For the Cure Breast Cancer 3-Day! She’s still got to raise some money to walk. If you haven’t yet given money toward the fight against cancer this year, will you please consider supporting Alex?
CLICK HERE!
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