Homecoming Day - 3/20/87
The following is an excerpt from my book, THE QUESTION OF DAVID: A Disabled Mother's Journey Through Adoption, Family, and Life, published in 1999 and available on Amazon.com.
I placed my cold, clammy hand on the arm of Neil’s tweed jacket, needing some human contact to keep me from jumping out of my skin. I glanced at him every now and then. He sat hunched forward with his eyes fixed on the opened jetport, intensely silent, beyond my reach. I felt alone.
Passengers poured out in an endless stream. We waited. Then there were the tricklers. We waited. Some of the clean-up crew headed down. We waited.
Finally I caught my first glimpse of Kate cradling a white bundle in her arms, flanked on one side by her youngest daughter, Andrea, and on the other by a flight attendant weighed down with carry-on baggage. They walked steadily, but slowly, up the jetport walkway. Kate moved regally with her head high and shoulders back, looking so formal in her dark green suit. As she came closer, I could see David’s little head in a blue bonnet poke out front he white blanket.
I swallowed, grinding my teeth together, and jerked my hand from Neil’s arm to clench my fingers around the chrome of my wheelchair. I braced myself, my eyes never straying from Kate’s advancing figure as she crossed the metal strip of the threshold and strode across the carpet in her black pumps without pause. My vision narrowed with each step that brought her closer to me, my eyes latching onto my son, David!
“Who wants him?” she asked, stopping in front of Neil and me.
Silently, we gazed at David. He didn’t look exactly as I remembered. The baby bonnet he wore fit too snugly on his head, and tied with white ribbon under his chin, made him look pudgy. Faded pink chicken pox dotted his forehead and round cheeks; his face paled under the harsh cones of ceiling light. I knew it had been such a long trip for him, yet my heart sank a little—I wanted something to recognize, to reconnect me with David.
Remembering Kate’s question, I gestured to an awestruck Neil; it was certainly his turn to hold his son, even though he didn’t look quite ready.
I watched David's face as Kate bent over to place him in Neil's arms. David's inquisitive blue eyes examined every face around him—Janet's, mine, Maggie's. With a tiny movement of his head, David looked up at Kate for reassurance. Blocking my view for a moment, Kate straightened up again to reveal David in the crook of Neil's arm. David finally focused on his father's face; their eyes locked onto each other in a long, unbroken gaze. A whimper escaped my lips.
Part of the blanket fell away through Neil's large fingers, revealing David's short blue outfit, rounded bare leg, and a white ankleted foot fitted with a blue slipper marked in blue with a capital B. I took off my glasses and wiped my eyes with a crumpled tissue.
I moved closer to them as Janet clicked her camera. I covered David's tiny hand with my own. He looked up at me. My lips brushed his smooth, round cheek. I smiled into the camera lens.