Spiritual Things Matter

Love-which is God- will consider our sighs and tears as incense burned at His altar and he will reward us with fortitude. ~Kahlil Gibran

In 1995, my husband, Scott, was attending college and also working on weekends while earning his advanced degree in geology at the University of Houston. I was full time employed at a local medical clinic. We had no children at the time. We had decided to wait until the college years were behind us so I could raise our children and avoid putting them into daycare. Our lives were occupied with school, projects, field trips, homework, and our jobs.

It was on one such busy day that I received a phone call from my brother, Jean, who was living in Germany.  He had called to tell me that he was engaged to be married in May. Jean invited me to be a part of his wedding.

I have written here about the day he was adopted, and how I came to realize that I would not see him as a child again. Losing my little brother was a loss that would stay with me always. In time, I managed to bury the tears deep within me, and remove the memories from the forefront of my mind of that very painful day so long ago. It was a loss that I had to eventually find the courage to look at again. It was a loss that I could not make any sense of, and yet with time, I was able to accept it and find meaning in it, which brought healing to my heart.

Words cannot describe how excited I was to hear from Jean again after all these years of wondering where he was and how he was doing. I quickly realized just how rusty my German had become, and I was much relieved when I realized that he was able to speak English. That day, it became a mission of mine to regain my German language skills, to better communicate with my newfound family!   Because my husband was in college, flying to Germany was going to be more of an expense for us than what we could afford at that time. However, the idea of our not flying to Germany to be a part of Jean’s wedding was out of the question. We were simply going to make that trip!

Some of my friends at work were so excited about the prospect of me seeing my brother again after so many years that they and my supervisor took up a collection to help out with our expenses as we prepared to fly to Germany.  Contributing toward this reunion was a very generous and kind gesture from those who did not really know me that well.  I was deeply humbled and thankful for their kindness and generosity.

As we flew to Germany, I was nervous and a bit apprehensive. I imagined every possible scenario under the sun. Would Jean recognize me? Would I recognize him? Would we both feel comfortable with each other or would our time together be awkward?  When the moment arrived, and I saw Jean for the first time in 25 years, I felt something that words simply cannot explain.  I recognized him right away even though over 25 years had passed. As we held one another in a tight embrace, the years melted away, and I cried. I cried for our loss. I cried for our reunion. I cried for this very profound moment in both of our lives. The emotions that welled up in me were overwhelming as my heart raced and my body shook. There was no awkwardness as we knew we belonged to each other.

The wedding was beautiful, and visiting with Jean and his new bride was a special time for us. They welcomed my husband with open arms, and the four of us had a wonderful time together.  During this busy time, Jean and I did managed to have some time alone. We spoke about our childhood and the day he was taken away from me. Jean told me about his life with his new family, and we discussed how life had been for me staying behind in the orphanage and eventually moving to America. Though there was much to talk about, there were also times we would not say a word.  Somehow, we understood each other as only siblings can. That understanding, we realized, was a part of the feeling of a deeper belonging and a deeper love.

In the years that followed, although we’ve spoken periodically on the telephone, I have not seen Jean since he was married in 1996. Much has taken place in his life as well as in our lives. As I spoke with my brother just a few days ago, we both knew it was time for another reunion. We will be traveling to Germany again soon, and I can’t wait to see him and spend some time with him again. I miss him. My two children also look forward to meeting their Uncle Jean, and my husband will enjoy clanging his beer krug once again with Jean’s. Life is good!