I’m not going to write about Katrina
And I’m not watching the news anymore. I’m not listening to NPR anymore. I’m taking a break because there is nothing I can do except give blood this weekend and that is certainly not enough. I have reached my limit. I will let you know when J hears from her family.
(Just typing this makes me feel guilty. I’ve reached my limit? I can’t even hear about it anymore? Must be nice. Must be swell to sit in my comfortable home with my healthy children and refuse to allow tragic reports within my hearing. Then I start feeling like it’s my job to be a witness to it — as if watching in horror and helplessness will somehow make things right. But I can’t. I’m done. I am gratefully grasping at my privilege and I’m taking a break.)
My real reason for writing this entry is that last night I was packing up some of the kids’ chapter books and I came across this book, I See the Moon by C. B. Christiansen.
It’s a slim little thing so I decided to re-read it since it’s about an open adoption and I hadn’t read it since Madison came home.
The story is told from the point of view of the little sister, Bitte, of the young woman who has made an adoption plan for her baby.
I’ve read other adoption books — ones about children who are adopted, many about children in foster care, and a few teen novels about young parents who place their children. This one is different because it takes into account the loss of the entire birth family and because it’s not just about adoption, i.e., it’s not a cautionary tale about the evils of premarital sex or an “issue” book about pregnant teens.
It was hard to read the last scene, when Bitte and her family say good-bye to the baby but it also brought back the happiest parts of remembering J entrusting Madison to us. Long-time readers of this blog will know how difficult it has been for me to look back on the day we took Madison home without feeling engulfed by guilt and grief but, silly as it may sound, this book helped. It gave me a chance to acknowledge that as difficult as that day was for J that we have (so far) had a happy ending. All of us, I mean. In any case, it’s a book I highly recommend for your young adult library whether adoption is a part of your family history or not. And if you’re waiting to adopt or have adopted, it will make you cry like you will not believe but in a good way.
i work the Morning Edition shift at an NPR station, and i have been totally overwhelmed by the news of Hurricane Katrina. story after story of people who can’t find their families, and victims who are suffering without food and water. why the hell is it taking so long to get help to these people?!? even if we can’t get them out yet, why isn’t the government dropping cases and cases of bottled water and MRE’s and diapers and formula, etc., for people to have while they wait….it’s almost too much to bear…
i hope J hears from her family soon…..
The whole thing is just so horrible and sad…I hope J’s family is doing ok.
I think we’ll wait for See the Moon. It’s hard enough reliving that day for me - it can wait until Lena’s old enough to read it together.
We don’t have cable or a readily accessible tv, as much because there is only so much I can take in.
That is okay. Maybe even better than okay.
An aquaintance once started to tell me about a movie she had seen and then changed her mind, telling me that I wouldn’t be able to handle it, emotionally.
At first I was offended. Then I wondered if there was something wrong with me.
Each of us just have different levels for all kinds of things. Me, I can volunteer in an abuse shelter for years and handle it. Watch a graphic movie about the same things. No way.
You are helping. I can only guess how many hits the Red Cross rec’d just from this site.
This book sounds so lovely. I will try and find it to add to my collection. I am always open to recommendations for my book shelf.
When it gets to be too much for me, I call my congressman and last night I e-mailed the White House. I know these are probably pointless things to do, but you never know. The terrible suffering of American citizens hasn’t made a difference to them, but worrying about votes might make them do something.