My parents had three daughters, then there is an eight year gap, then they had four boys. My folks are orderly like that. And somewhere along the way my oldest sister was given a little sailor dress. Navy, white collar, red trim. And all three of us girls eventually had our pictures taken in that little sailor dress. We are kind of adorable. Then came the boys and my mom decided against bucking gender-appropriate-stereotypes and decided to make a boy version instead. It is also darling.
And as each of the grandchildren have come along – my oldest sister had two, then my second sister had three, then I have one (none of the ages overlap either, like our parents we have been quite orderly in the baby making/adopting department) the dress or littleshortset has been passed on so they too can take their turn becoming a little Sailor Boy or Girl.
So when we knew Thane was coming home shortly my mother gave me the little boy outfit so I could take pictures when the time was right.
And it made me choke up.
Because she accepts him as a grandchild, without thinking about it, without qualifications, just acceptance. He is their grandchild. End of story. And that doesn’t seem extraordinary to my parents, it’s who they are, it’s the values they raised me to have. But I know other families are perhaps not quite so lucky. Other families where grandchildren who were adopted are treated a little differently than the ones that share blood.
But not in this family. In this family you will be loved, kissed, visited, doted on, and eventually you will be dressed up like a little Sailor Baby to have your picture taken.
Categories: adoption related mushiness