The Price

I am watching the Lennon tonight while his mother does open mike. It is really cold out so we opted not to go count the stars, but we did make ice cream this afternoon and now I am watching him eat it.

He eats every spoonful standing at the coffee table, too intent to even sit down and I sit here watching him with grandmotherly adoration. Then the tears come and I have to look away. I am remembering another young family I learned about today whose parents are so poor they often go hungry and their baby, who is nursing, is failing to thrive because of this.

That baby has grandparents too. They talked his parents out of putting him up for adoption because if you get a girl pregnant, according to them, you pay the price.

Adoption, the ultimate sacrifice, the most loving thing a parent can give a child he is not equipped to take care of. This is how we explained it to our adopted children. “Your parents knew they couldn’t take care of you and they loved you so much, they allowed us to love you too.”

Now that the grandparents have stopped the adoption they refuse to share any of what they have with their children who are doing everything humanly possible to make this work. The father was badly injured last year and still is not totally recovered, but he works at any and all jobs he can get. Unfortunately with his skills, he is often the first to be laid off. Now he not only must work when he feels too ill to get up, but he must watch his baby and wife suffer too. Who extracts this price from their own children and grandchildren?

Lennon looks up and smiles at me, ice cream dripping off his chin, "Gramma, are you crying?" I just shake my head and smile at him. Then I have to get up and go hug him.