Reunions part 3

I have replayed those phone calls a thousand times in my mind. Each time I am still amazed and overcome with excitement and emotion.

Maria and I talked on the phone just about every day after that. She bought a plane ticket to Iowa and flew out from Alaska on December 9th. Dave and I were waiting at the Cedar Rapids airport. I can't remember ever being that nervous. I had managed to keep a cool head throughout the whole experience so far. Every reunion I had ever seen had involved tears and melt downs. Mine had so far only involved a lot of surprised stares and laughter. I hadn't shed a tear yet.

Here I was at the Cedar Rapids airport, pacing like a mad woman in front of the security line. (I must have made some FSA employees nervous that day.) Dave tried to get me to calm down but I couldn't get my insides to sit still. I was a wreak. My heart made an abrupt trip down to my stomach and up into my throat when I saw her plane pull up to the gate. Then I started to feel the threat of the flood behind my eyes. I was still willing myself not to cry at that point.

It literally felt like ages before everyone got off the plane. I didn't have any picture of her. I had no idea what she looked like and I was pretty certain that the image in my head wasn't going to aide my search. But as soon as I saw her, every bit of me know who she was. It was those eyes. I knew those eyes. I saw them in every picture and mirror every time I smiled. It was the strangest feeling in the world. I was completely overcome with emotions I can't even name. She walked up to me with those smiling eyes and hugged me. And I lost it. Every emotion that I had been feeling, all the things I wanted to say to her, all the questions I had for her... they all came out of me in incoherent, happy sobs. She squeezed me tight while I sobbed and told me "It's ok baby girl. It's ok." This succeeded in unleashing a new strand of sobs followed by some pretty feeble attempts at laughter. In all of my dreams, I never imagine that our reunion would feel like this. This was my mother. The woman who gave birth to me. The woman whose blood flows in my veins. The woman who carried me in her womb for nine months. The woman who made such a selfless sacrifice by choosing to take a hard look at herself and make the decision that was right for ME. All I could say was thank you.

The week of her visit went by far too quickly. We spent hours talking and looking at old photographs. My coffee table and living room floor was covered in photos of me. (It was rather uncomfortable actually.) She brought photo albums of herself and told me all about her life in the last 29 years. There are some photos of her when she was a young girl that look incredibly similar to me at the same age. There are three or four pictures of her when she was 18 and 19 that look identical to me at that age as well. It is amazing! She was nothing like I had ever imagined. She was better than that. I had prayed for days that God would clear my mind of any expectations or conclusions I had come to about her over the years. He gave me just that. All expectations that I had about her had been wiped clean just moments before she got off the plane. It had allowed us to get to know each other with no pressures. It was an amazing gift. Even more spectacular was that insight it gave me into how much of a hand God has had in my life to date.

And that part of the story will follow shortly...