This past Saturday was a milestone, and I
completely forgot about it. On May 9, 2007, Michael came home from Kazakhstan.
My flight from Almaty to Frankfurt had been fine, even though it was an overnight flight. Once in the Frankfurt airport, however, I had to endure a nightmare, since Germany wouldn’t let me take Michael into baggage claim. I had not checked the luggage all the way through to Atlanta because I was having to fly home on Delta buddy passes. After becoming nearly frantic and not knowing what to do about Michael, I was finally told to take him to the Lufthansa office dealing with older or infirmed airline customers, and a lovely woman in there told me she would watch him while I went and made arrangements for the flight home. It took me about an hour and a half to get the bags, get checked in with Delta, and get back to Michael. The Delta folks hadn’t wanted to issue a boarding pass since he wasn’t with me, even though I explained the dilemma. By the time I got to the gate to board the plane, I was exhausted. The Frankfurt airport is huge and confusing. Michael was a trooper. We got to sit in business class, and Michael slept the whole way home. I couldn’t sleep. I can never sleep on planes.
[This was taken on Mike's last day in Petropavlovsk]
When we got to Atlanta, after getting the
baggage, I got a cab home. It was the middle of the day on a Wed. and all my
friends were working. Mother doesn’t drive interstates so I wasn’t going to ask her to drive to
the airport. I was too tired to navigate the train, so the taxi seemed like the
best solution. We got a chatty cab driver, unfortunately. Very sweet, wouldn’t hush talking. Michael and I
huddled together in the back seat. Michael was looking out the window at
everything like he was on another planet. In a way, he was.
Northern Kazakhstan in early May is still
pretty cold, and there was mud everywhere. Highs were in the 50’s. Even in Almaty, which is a
lot warmer, there was dust everywhere. Buildings are often old and derelict
looking. Most folks in Kazakhstan are either Asian or Russian looking. We land
in America and Michael sees black people and Hispanic people for the first
time. He sees and interstate highway for the first time. He sees skyscrapers
when we pass through downtown. Everything in Atlanta is green and lush, and
flowers are blooming everywhere.
I was showing a friend at work a photo of
Michael made a few days after he got home [see below]. I had set him and Alesia to work in
the vegetable garden. Michael is so tiny and white, and looks completely unlike
he does now. She remarked that it was amazing what vitamins and good food could
do. I thought about that later. All those things aid in a child’s health, but the most important
thing is for a child to feel loved. That’s when a child thrives.
We have had some challenges with Michael,
but he is a real joy, most of the time. He suffered so terribly as a small
child, it wouldn’t be
surprising if he was a really messed up kid, but he isn’t, not at all.
Last night he slept in my room, on the
floor, on the Aerobed, since Bruce was sleeping in his room. Before he dropped
off to sleep, he said “You know, I really did a lot on dinner tonight. I
cooked the bisquits, sliced the veggies, and we both did the steaks.” I told him proud I was of him.
Bruce brought Alesia an army tee
shirt recently, and she wore it to sleep in last night. This morning, Mike had
no shirt to wear. He had gotten his pants and everything else from his room last night, but
forgot a shirt. It was early and we didn’t want to go in Mike’s room
and wake up Bruce, so I asked Alesia if Mike could wear the army shirt to
school. She
argued for a minute, then agreed. When he picked it up a little while later, he
said to me excitedly, “Smell the shirt!” I did.
It smelled like Alesia’s perfume. I figured he would refuse to
wear it. On the contrary – he was
delighted to wear it. The smell was pretty subtle. I just thought it was cute
he wanted to have her smell close by all day. They are really getting along
well, at the moment.
The new raised garden bed has me daydreaming about vegetables all the time now. I am beside myself with anticipation of planting it. Funny how one’s priorities change as one glides into middle age?!
[This was made last fall]