Adoption Hard Stuff...Like Death

We know that adoption happens because there's stuff that makes parenting appear impossible. And many times that stuff is big and hard. Last month that big hard stuff resulted in our son's birthfather leaving the earth tragically and by his own hand.

We only saw his birthfather occasionally - partly because of the physical distance between us, and partly because of the big hard stuff in his life interfering with his ability to be very demonstrative. But we always knew he cared.

He called sometimes, and we talked about Benji's challenges, and I asked him how he felt at that age - what would have made his life easier in school. He told me he appreciated our parenting style. He sent money for some enrichment activities one summer. He cleaned up his old G.I. Joe figures and sent them to Benji. He found kids' books about science, and he made a gift from time to time for him. Yes, he cared, greatly. I know that these gestures took much effort on his part to accomplish, and they are precious. So very precious.

Whenever we did see him, he wanted to make the time together meaningful. We went on walks in his favorite places. He wanted Benji to know the places that he loved.

So when he passed, we told Benji the truth. The truth about the how and why. We told it gently and clearly, following the wise counsel of a therapist who deals in adoption, grief, and loss. We want our boy to know we would never lie to him. We want our boy to have empathy and to see the tragedy in it. We want our boy to know that taking one's life is never the best option, that it does have consequences for everyone who loves you. And we want our boy to know that no matter how things ended, we still love, respect, and miss his birthfather.

After we got through the tough discussion with him and Sadie (she's just as mature as he is with stuff like this), we asked him how he'd like to honor his birthfather. We were too far away to make it to the service, but we could have our own service here.

We thought about how he loved nature. And we thought about how we could symbolically "release" him. Thus we found ourselves at the lake looking for rocks. Benji wore a floppy hat that looked like the hats we had often seen his birthfather wear.

Benji found a rock he liked and wrote his birthfather's name on it with a yellow crayon. (It doesn't really show up because of that, but he chose the color himself.)

Then we shared things we appreciated about his birthfather. Each of us said something that we loved.

And then he threw the rock into the water.

Comprehending such a loss at the age of seven is something that will happen over time and in layers of understanding as he matures. We know we will revisit much of what we discussed. But the key here is openness and letting him have his feelings of loss whenever they do present themselves.

Shortly after, we put a candle in the window on National Suicide Prevention Day. No one else on our block had a candle in their window, but perhaps that is something Benji will one day want to share with our neighbors. Perhaps it will be a way of working through the big stuff.

If you wish to contribute to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, you can make a tax deductible donation by clicking here. My sister is participating in the Out of the Darkness walk that raises funds for the AFSP. 100% of your donation goes to the foundation. As Benji gets a little older, it may be something he decides to participate in, too.