November is the month when we celebrate the gift of love through adoption. As an adoptive mother, I cannot begin to express the joy I have found through my beautiful son, Christopher, adopted in 1992. I was 40 when his adoption became final.

Some potential adoptive parents fear that finding a child is impossible for them due to lack of funds, available children, or because of their age. Subsequently, they are concerned that they will never experience the happiness of parenting a child. But you can find love through adoption, and through Special Needs Adoption, you can find a deep and satisfying parent/child relationship with the added knowledge that you are helping a child who is desperately waiting for a home, is in great need of an advocate…is urgently waiting….for  love.

to read more: www.associatedcontent.com/article/2397378/adoption_a_special_gift.html

Since its 1976 proclamation as National Adoption Month in Massachusetts, November has remained a part of our National tradition as a time to celebrate the gift of love.  A little over seventeen years ago, such a gift was given to me when my seven-day-old son was placed in my arms.

As I gazed into the face of my baby, I could not have envisioned that a mere twelve hours later, I would fall completely, irrevocably in love.  I could not have comprehended that this "Son of My Soul," would capture my heart completely and forever hold it captive. Imagine my surprise at the reaction of some of the people I came into contact with, and the main question I was asked: "Do you ever wish you had a child of your own?"  

continue reading here:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/2342798/do_you_wish_you_had_a_child_of_your.html?cat=25

This morning is not a typical Saturday. This morning I sit here, writing down my thoughts, waiting for the phone to ring; waiting to hear that William Welch has been reunited with his beloved wife, Betty; waiting to hear that his 91-year-old body has finally succumbed to the pneumonia, which has taken over his body.

Memories flash through my mind like a personal slide show: golf outings and cookouts, Christmases and Thanksgivings – a laughter-filled house in Virginia.   For 25 years, this man has been an integral part of my life, and upon his departure, a void will exist which no one can fill. My father-in-law is dying.

He always calls me his ally. Dad started the game within a few months of first meeting me. We love inventing tall tales and outlandish scenarios so that the one can support the other, even embellish the tale. We enjoy each other and like being together. Dad treats me like his own daughter, and we often joke that, if Mark and I ever divorced, Mark would have nowhere to go for the holidays.

He loves his son. Pride glows in his eyes whenever he beholds his tall, handsome, successful boy. Mark says that Dad was a great father, and that he owes so much to him.

Dad adores Christopher, and all of his other grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Tender and sweet, giving and patient, he has given our son a perfect memory of what a grandparent should be. Granddad will live in his heart forever.

So, I sit here, waiting for the phone – dreading the ring that will tell me that our time together on this earth is over. The house is quiet, our hearts heavy. An era will soon pass.

And jeweled hummingbird wings

Beat the scented air

With iridescent beauty.

I cry out in admiration!

My heart sings,

And lovingly soars

To the great dome of Heaven

My trembling spirit bows in awe

Before the Ultimate Being

Who created this beauty

And the magic of wonder.