Long Story Short

This is John's little brother Tim, his wife Carolyn and their son Jack, who is actually John David, named for his uncle John, but who wants to deal with two Johns?  They'd end up like Little Sharon and me, and we confuse ourselves. 

I cooked my favorite meatloaf recipe on Sunday - doubled it and added oven baked potatoes and carrots.  We had a family dinner.  We're family!  These are the moms, Carolyn and Shannon, and cousins, Jack and Olivia.  Tim was adopted a couple years after John.  John says Tim was so cute, he was a "chick magnet" and so he always wanted to hang with him.

A energetic game of something went on for a long time in the backyard.  It involved no rules and two yellow balls, lots of running and general nuttiness.

It was followed by some indoor cooking.  They were working hard here while I was working hard in the kitchen.  Kidding.  I had mixed up the meatloaf that morning and was enjoying the evening with everyone else.

After dinner we celebrated Christina's birthday, which is actually today, but Karen is awesome and that's just the way she does stuff.  We were chatting one evening and she mentioned that someone, after learning that her boys were adopted said, oh - you did it the easy way.  I am the queen of speaking before I think, but I'm still trying to digest that insensitive remark. 

I can't in this short space digest all the things that have transpired over the past 26 years, but there is no way John's parents chose the easy way.  They were the only adoptive parents Chrissie considered and they have been more than perfect.  Easy way?  I still reel at that.

I am so proud of Christina and now her granddaughter.  Her decisions as a pregnant 15-year-old teenager made this event possible.  She didn't care what anybody else thought of her and she did her best to be healthy for her baby.  My mother was behind her all the way and Chrissie never looked back.  We come from a line of strong women.

We tried to get a four-generation picture but Alexia was wired.  This is the best it got with a picture including John, because she was so obsessed with him - her brother. Obsession - serious obsession.

This photo touches me deeply - four generations of women from the Craine/Wilson/McPherson side of my family.  I have a genealogy map that predates my family to the Revolution.  I don't aspire to membership to the DAR.  The map was made so my uncle could be admitted to the SAR.  When we flew home, I left behind family more akin to me than anyone on a genealogy map.

The flight home Monday was unforgettable.  We got stuck with six hours in the air due to a strong headwind and a late push-off time while they calibrated weight and jettisoned standby passengers.  I didn't pay for the onflight WiFi connection so was stunned to be playing a game on my iPad and receive a one-line news blip that two were confirmed dead and hundreds injured in Boston.  A message popped through from my son - "get out of there, Boston has been bombed.  Not kidding."

Because of our delay, we landed and sprinted to the next gate to make our connecting flight and so were out of touch for hours.  Monday will be etched in our minds as for most of Americans.  I think for my generation it will be much like, where were you when John Kennedy was shot.  I'm sorry to have that cloud hanging over our reunion. 

The flight was painfully long - cramped seats, cramped knees.  After the first hour, Alexia entertained herself by going to the bathroom.  Mommy took her first, I took her second, and then after that she was confident enough to go on her own.  Mostly she was visiting with the stewards.  She apparently told them her whole history because when we deplaned they all called to her and said - goodbye Auntie. 

Cutest six-week-old baby picture in the world.

Or maybe this one.  I know how rich I am- rich where it matters.