We're always better when we're together.

Thirteen years ago today, a new little person joined our family. He didn't come to us in the standard way. True, he didn't have teeth (as is the usual) but he could say "mum" and was already crawling and beginning to toddle. I wrote about it recently:

"He came to us unexpectedly. After lots of doors had been closed in our faces, finally one was open. We held our breath and kept our hearts in check. Then, just seven days after we were told yes, he was there, in our house and in our arms. I remember sitting with him that first afternoon on the swing set under the silky oak tree. From way out behind the railway track and the low curving hills beyond, the afternoon sun sent sharp slanting beams of light across us. Cuddled in my lap, rocking with me on the swing, was this chubby, quiet, smiling eighteen-month-old stranger. Yesterday he had not been my brother. Now, suddenly, he was."

I wonder what went on in his little baby mind. I wonder how it felt to be whisked out of his foster family -- the only family he had really known -- and into a new one. In this new family, Mum had a different face and there was a regular ongoing circus of three big sisters and one big brother, all looming close and ready to cuddle, to tickle, to laugh, to play. He loved Dad's beard right away, and was all smiles and appreciation. But he resented the mummish things Mum had to do for him, and it took a while for his truest self to come out, the self that loved to wrestle and growl and was all-boy. We didn't know how much of him had been held back, waiting -- perhaps tentatively, perhaps in shock -- until he truly settled in to this mad new world and his personality could relax and ripen.

It's crazy now to think of it, that in one day someone could join our family and our history would be different because of it. But every year on the ninth of July* we take time out to remember it (tonight, with Tain's choice of Indian) and make cheesy toasts in honour of Tain's adoptaversary. We are so glad he's here.

*So I guess July-in-New-South-Wales has been good for at least one thing, after all.

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Conversations:

Katie -- it's nice to know I'm not the only one who finds July a bit of a nothing month. And it seems such a great month to be an American!


Elisabeth -- turning to letter-writing is a brilliant way to work yourself out of a corner when writing an article. I might have to try it myself when I get stuck!


Caitlin - craftycrackpot -- hopefully soon there'll be a real letter headed your way, too. I've embarked on my huge pile to reply-to, so I've made a start!


Hannah -- you're delightful. xx


Carla and Alastair -- Carla, I love your blog comments! And you should keep your eyes peeled, because I just might write one of my blog letters to you. You've inspired me!

Hero in a faded blue singlet.

When he was about three years old, my littlest brother Tain somehow got through our five-foot fence and started weaving across the New England Highway, pushing his little wooden cart between the steady stream of B-doubles and semi-trailers that came roaring down the bitumen at 110 kilometres an hour.

The first we knew of it was in the screech of swerving vehicles and the long, loud air horns of the big trucks. We raced from all the corners of our house, out of the gate and onto the highway, my mother, my sisters, my brother, and me. But Tain was away up the road and innocently unaware of the sickening danger. We knew we couldn’t get to him in time. My mother was already crying. And when she saw the next semi barrelling down the highway towards him, she couldn’t look. She turned away, covering her face with her hands.

Then a crazy thing happened. Someone ahead of the semi – a man travelling in a white ute – leapt out of the driver’s seat with the engine still running. His passenger had to lean across to take the wheel and steer the ute to the verge. Meanwhile this man, a tattooed stranger in a faded navy singlet, darted across the highway and through the traffic to my little brother. He snatched Tain up in his arms and held him there in the middle of the road while the whole cavalcade of death machines swerved and sped past. When he delivered Tain – smiling, chirping, oblivious Tain – to my near-hysterical mother, he told us he’d seen the small figure crossing the highway from way back. “I started screaming at the trucks to stop,” he said breathlessly, “only they couldn’t hear me. I knew the kid was gonna take a hit, and I thought: I can take a bigger hit than the kid. I just had to get to him.”

That was more than ten years ago, and I still haven’t found the words to accurately respond to that. In the form of a burly ute-driver with tattoos, Tain bumped up against amazing grace that day.

This Flashback Friday post is a snippet stolen from an essay I handed in for school today.

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Conversations:

Amanda -- birthdays are never as amazing as I want them to be for the excellent people in my life, but I hope Mum had fun :D

Brenda Wilkerson -- it's very cool to have a mum who is also my great friend. I'm aware that it's a rare blessing!

Daphne -- hear, hear!

Andrea -- :D

Mothercare -- <3

Samantha R -- yay! Great mums are just the best.

Rebecca Simon -- don't you wish it was easier to say those potentially sappy things?

Andrea again -- I UPDATE NAOW OKZ??

Unexpected commentary on the world of Austen:

It is excellent having a little brother who will sit and snuggle with my mother and I while we watch the latest adaptation of Emma. Not only does it make my literary and fangirl heart happy, but it also provides unique insights into the film. When Mr. Elton first came on screen, my brother dismissed him as "creepy" (he was right, of course).

Later in the movie, when Mr. Elton delivered his romantic riddle to Emma and Harriet, Tain was just as intrigued by the riddle's solution as the characters were.

"Cour'ship!" Tain said, surprised.
"Yeah," I replied. "Do you know what courtship is?"
He looked at me. "It's food."
I paused for a second. "Uh, no -- not corn chips. Courtship. It's quite different."
"Oh," he said.

(By the way, this adaptation of Emma, starring Romola Garai and Jonny Lee Miller, is truly delightful. Their faces alone make this the best thing ever. It's like a catalogue of quirky expressions).

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Conversations:

The First Rose -- bravo you for stepping out into new things! I hope the choir proves to be a fabulous experience :).

H.C.H. -- thank you, friend! x

Simplythis -- thank you for getting it! I definitely have my doubts when I make these rambly posts at times. "Am I the only person on earth who thinks this way?" :)

Mothercare -- lovelove! (besides, I learnt it all from you)

SandieT -- thanks so much for reading and commenting. It's sometimes sad when our needs are unmet by the very environment we thought would provide all the answers, but I guess that every time we are individually challenged to extend love to one another, that becomes the church in action in small, personal ways. PS. I miss the beautiful land of WA; enjoy your time there, however long or short it may be :).

Abbie -- likewise, thank you for being so continuously encouraging and loving in spite of my failings! x

Rebecca Simon -- those friendships are rare, aren't they? -- but maybe their rarity only makes them more precious.

Elisabeth -- we get to be "more than conquerors" by repeatedly learning that we can actually survive outside our comfort zones :).

Asea -- that is such a beautiful image: the idea of different threads pulling together to create a friendship, with each shared thread making that friendship stronger. I love it!

Mitanika -- you are lovely; your comments always make me happy :D.

Caitlin -- ah, I love that you commented knowing that I would rejoice in whatever you have to say, regardless of the fact that you felt you didn't have the "right words"; you know me well and you were right. Thank you! xx

Amanda -- thank you, Amanda. It seems like it's a feeling/understanding so many of us have experienced. xx

Chantel -- you are so right. And perhaps it's the awkward social barriers and mystery etiquette which makes us recognise those truest friendships for the treasures that they are.

Julia -- :D xx