I gotcha, Tan-man. And I’m never letting go.
Thirteen years ago, on this day, you came home, never having to leave again.
For more than four months prior we entertained visits as a prospective adoptive family. First a few hours on the grounds of the group home you were in. Next was a few hours where I would race you from Los Angeles and back to Irvine for the evening, only to have to race back to L. A. to return you by bedtime: two round-trip OC to LA drives near daily for months just to give you a few hours at home. Eventually we earned day visits and then overnights and ultimately weekends — first short then long.
Your rookie adoption worker was scared to make the final call and transfer you officially to my care.
But I was becoming your mom and you weren’t going to let me go any longer. By June you were protesting being left at the group home. The once-compliant, quiet boy would throw tantrums every time I left. It was no longer about me and the child I wanted… it was about you and the mom you needed.
So on July 6th, we petitioned the court and won: the judge overrode the adoption worker and ordered you be placed immediately into my care.
On July 7th, today thirteen years ago, you came home.
I had to fight to get you.
I fought for so much of what you got.
Now I fight to hold onto you.
A few weeks into our time together we did our first family photo at the nearby lake. It was never a particularly special place but today I felt drawn to come spend time with you here, in the peacefulness.
You were my peace.
Throughout the day I suppressed the draw to the lake. Time by myself with my thoughts is rarely a good thing. I fight to find my joyful memories of you.
As the day began to draw to a close I could feel panic setting in. You were pulling me somewhere and I was ignoring you. Tears began welling up under the surface and I knew where I had to be.
I grabbed a few of your things: your favorite neon orange cape, a favorite Hot Wheel, your glasses you aways handed me to clean for you, and a “T” Disney keychain from your collection.
Sitting in front of the water, listening to the ducks quack and the couples chatting as they strolled by behind me, I began to sob. I just miss you more than I think I can bear. I miss my life with you. I miss us. You and me, mom and son
As I often do, I decided to take a photo of the moment. Just as I lined up the mementos I brought, a soft breeze came in and made the cape flutter.
My heart is still broken but I found you in the moment.
Today is our Gotcha Day.
You got me, Tanner. Forever.
The beach was one of his favorite places. I don’t know what he loved best about it, but he could spend hours in the sand, his skinny little back hunched over, his legs spread wide forming a circle as he poured sand from a red Solo cup watching the mound grow and the sand fly in the breeze only to stop and smooth it perfectly when the pile got too high.
much as watching the dark shapes on the ground transform as he moved. He loved to watch his shadows as he acted out the opening sequence of Power Rangers. For all of you who are sure you once spotted a Power Ranger on Camp Pendleton’s shore, it was just my Tanner.
As I stared at a vacant space in the sand, I could see him clearly. He was in his happy place, hunched over, methodically watching the sand pour from the cup. “How you doing, T?” He would have cocked his head to the side, looked at me with a wide, quiet grin and thrown me a thumbs up.
He’s got to know that I would never leave him.
I pray that moment never comes.
Okay, yes, you were only turning 17 today but seeing as how you’ve been telling everyone for months you were already 18 I just figured we would celebrate it accordingly and give you two 18th birthdays. As long as you are happy, the technicalities have never been important.
And, Birthday Boy? If I promise to try not to let you see me cry, think you can pay me a visit today? My heart desperately needs to feel you.
“I did it mysef!” he excitedly told me.
