My September Eleventh

Yeah, I know, I still cringe when I see the video of something so horrible that it still, at least in my mind, seems unthinkable. I think what a waste of human life, the poor folks inside who just wanted to work, and the poor, suicidal fireman who went in to "save" them. The firemen knew better. Of course I remember that day and where I was, who doesn't?

But guess where I was in 1997 on another September eleventh. At six or so that morning, I was, coincidentally, in an airport watching it rain, nervously trying to swallow and chit chat while waiting for a plane. I had a wife to go with me, and a parent or two to see us both off as we flew to Guatemala to pick up another Mothershead.

A little over a year before that moment, we had thrown in the towel trying to have a child the good old fashioned way and had gone to see about international adoption. Because of a book I read, I figured we'd do well to have a little girl, but at the initial meeting for Chinese adoptions (specializing in little girls), we found out that Lisa and I were too young (as if we were ever too young for anything).

We weren't far off, but after the "talk" we were leaving a little dejected. However, on the way out the door, I glanced down and saw a pamphlet about Guatemalan adoptions spread about on a folding table. And the little kids in the pictures looked alot* like yours truly--I mean, when I was a kid. There was a certain family resemblance and when we looked at the photos, we both knew.

Well, thankfully, I was in charge of doing absolutely nothing to promote the adoption process. See, I was still trying the old fashioned way whenever anyone would let me, and working. All that damnable paperwork and schmoozing with the adoption agency was Lisa's job. I don't know how many trips she made to the Guilford County Courthouse even though, these days, she claims she can't find it. And the home studies? Oh man, I can tell you now, don't call a deputy sheriff  "a doughnut-eating pig" while you're being interviewed--even on paper. That cost me two hundred dollars for a personality test.

Another twist of fate was a dead grandfather of Lisa's who, by some miracle, had left her some land and a sharecropper. Well, sure, it was fun to phone the "grain elevator" guys in Kansas and shout, "SELL SELL!" when grain was "up" and we needed Christmas presents, but there came a day when Lisa's step-mom wanted to sell her parcel and "it would just be better if we sold ours with hers". So we did. Suddenly the whole adoption was already paid for.

Jaime's foster 'brothers'. All smiles!

And, just like a pregnancy, we were told "You'll get what you get, and that's what you'll get." We waited and watched as the couple before us in the queue got a child, and then we waited some more until we finally got an email and a photo that choked our dial-up modem until we had a Jpeg of a crying baby boy. After the birth photos, we received more pictures from the foster family and I had a glimpse,  though I didn't recognize it at the time, of a happy, loving family...the one we were about to pull apart.


So then, cash in hand, with everything about us certifiably copied and notarized--in triplicate--and translated to Castellano, and all the right people bribed here and yon, and plane tickets bought and our bags packed, we took to the air in a rush of excitement and landed in Houston, Texas...staying there for...eight...hours.

It was ninety-three degrees at 9:00 AM that September morning. Everything of interest, of course, was closed. So I begged and begged and we finally got a room where we napped, tried the good old fashioned way again one last time, and watched TV until we danced past the passport-checking cops, boarded another jet that sweated us on the tarmac for awhile before it finally took off over the Gulf...of Mexico that is.

And in the dark, between the floating canyons of flashing thunderstorms, we finally felt the airplane slow and lurch like a city bus which was apropos because as we fell from the sky during our rain-streaked descent, we noticed the airport and runway were smack dab in the middle of Guatemala City, Guatemala. I could see Golden Arches just a few meters and roofs away as we hurtled down the runway hoping to stop before we rode through the business district.

Stopped then, we made a mad dash through the rain to the terminal, found a shifty looking guy with a "Mothershead/Cain" sign and got into a car with him. Once in the car, we were off to the hotel, or to be kidnapped, murdered and sold piecemeal for our wholesome organs--the thought did cross my mind as we jockeyed with a thousand other cars through the night.

Obviously we made it to the hotel, but I can't remember much in the way of checking in, getting the room, getting unpacked. I do remember the night was warm, but not too humid, and the city, which was just a few meters from the front door, was loud and noisy and relentless even at the hour we were there. Well, for us, it was 10:00 PM, for the rest of Guatemala, it was only 9:00.

I do remember not really believing it was the very same day that we had left NC, and that I was in another country. I felt like I could barely remember why we had even come to Guatemala until the hijo del abogado  showed up with a woman carrying a huge blue and white bundle. Then it started to dawn on me that all the fingerprinting, all the interviews, and all the "hassles", were for this moment, and that all the waiting was just about over.

The Foster Mom hanging in there.

Jaime's foster mom handed him to Lisa and started wiping tears away. And at that moment, I felt as bad as anyone could have. I already knew how selfish it is to want a child, and seeing her cry while passing this little boy into the hands of strangers made that very obvious and real to me. Even now, if someone says, "You're so good for adopting," or "You did such a good thing," I cringe and beg them off with a curt, "No we aren't/didn't. We just got what we had so badly wanted."

And just like that, after a few penstrokes we were parents. I was a father. I swear, at that moment I felt like I hadn't seen it coming, as if it were some big surprise. Suddenly, all that aforementioned guilt washed away with the anticipation of this little baby boy waking up in the morning and, assuming his eyes were open, he would see his new mom and dad and love us like we'd dreamed he would.

Lisa signing the papers, complete with tiny foot prints from Jaime.

He didn't wait until morning. Apparently babies, and Jaime was barely three months old at this time, need to eat whenever the feeling hits them. And starting in Guatemala, and for the rest of those early months, it became my job to do the middle of the night feeding. When he woke us up with that horrible screeching (thankfully, to this day, I can't remember what it used to sound like) that first night, I was sleepily trained in the art of feeding a baby. And when I looked into his little black eyes while he drank, that sudden rush of "What the hell was I thinking?" slipped away into something without words yet understood between he and I.

Watching Willy Wonka.

I have rarely felt so selfless, maybe once or twice in my life, than I did in the low light of the single lamp, looking down at my son as he drank his snack and lulled himself back to sleep. It was love at first sight, that's all I can say.

We could've timed the whole encounter so we could jet back to the U.S. the very next day, but, hey, we were in Guatemala! I forced us to plan a weekend so we could see some sights and maybe take back some mementos and memories and photos. It hadn't dawned on me that we'd be parents when I decided we'd take our time, but we had help. A couple and their daughter took us around showing us some things, and Antigua, and a market. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

If you've ever read anything I've written about this time, then you already know it was an eye-opening experience. All my life, I had never been surrounded by people of colour who just so happened to match my colour! Was it a racial awakening? An epiphany of sorts? I finally fit into a crowd and I liked it. For once, it was Lisa who looked a tad out of place as we saw the sights! At a bank, standing in line to exchange some cash, a fellow customer turned to me and started talking to me as if I had grown up right next door.

The face of discontent. "Who the hell are these people?"

Anyway, when it opened up, we had to go to the U.S. Embassy and sign some more papers and get Jaime's papers straight. I'm not sure what we were doing, but finally, we were on our way, and on the way home. And what had been an awesome adventure coming down to Guatemala, now had become a (new) parent's nightmare.  No one tells you how heavy these kids get after you've been carrying them for a few hours--not to mention all the accoutrements.

Jaime's passport! Note thumb print.

Also, no one tells you babies hate pressurized jetliners. And no one tells you how lonely two people can be when they've just become parents and there's no one for a thousand miles to help out. The only people around you are there to double check your paperwork, taking their own sweet time and denying you and yours access to the one thing you really need: your parents, and more specifically, your Mom!

Jaime's green card!

And that is why, when the plane touched down at GSO, and we walked out of the chute, I choked back tears of shear joy when I saw friends and family waiting for us three with eager arms outstretched to take the newest Mothershead out of my tired arms. Again, that kind of relief only comes once or twice in a lifetime. And once in a while, it feels good to feel as loved as we all did. Someone even got poor ol' Jaime to smile after the journey as he was passed around from uncles to cousins to grandparents.

Impossible to meet someone at the "people tube" nowadays, but there was everyone  in 1997.

The picture is bad, but on the floor at Lisa's feet is a bear that she dropped, but never stopped walking as she kicked it towards our family and friends. I'm behind her with the boy trying not to cry but eager to pass him around. My late mom and dad, who adopted yours truly, is on the left, and Lisa's mom is there on the right. Obviously, and sadly, the moment captured here would never be allowed these days because of hateful, deluded people and what they did on a later September eleventh. No one's allowed near the chutes now unless they're getting off or on a plane.

The world was indeed a better place when September eleventh was something we had looked forward to with anticipation, and then as the day we'd remember as the beginning of a completely different life for all three of us. It is the day I finally had a reason to be here, and for that, my September eleventh is good enough for me.

Jaime's 14th Birthday. June 17, 2011.

P.S. And even more "good enough for me" is the "good old fashioned way", which as it turned out, worked just fine after a while...but that's another story.