Dumas 4

Before we are moms, we are women. Before we are women, we are girls. Before we are girls we are children. Few things have stayed constant in my life through all of these stages. My family, my faith and the desire to be a mother. I loved baby dolls as a child. I would enter a world where I was in control of those around me and they had to do what I told them. I foolishly thought that would happen when I became a mother. When I was a girl, I decided I would have 3 children. Two girls and a boy, just as my mother had. I foolishly thought that I got to decide these things when I became a mother. When I became a woman, I decided I would also have a wonderful career alongside these 3 perfect children. I foolishly thought I could do it all. As I lay here in bed recovering from a very simple surgery that had lasting effects on my ability to have more children, there is a photo in my direct line of sight. Its a black and white photo that I cherish. It is from a vacation we took before Emma was even 1 year old. We went to Colorado for a week in the summer to escape the heat of Texas, and the busyness of life. On our way home we stopped in Dumas, TX for a picture. There are not that many people who have the honor of having a last name like Dumas. It is often mispronounced, I'm sure my husband was teased terribly as a child, and I'm certain my daughters will hate it when they hit the 'tween years. But I married into this name. It came with the man I love so I like it. Just before you get to Dumas, Texas, there is a sign that reads "Dumas 4" indicating that you are just 4 miles from the thriving metropolis of Dumas, Texas (population 13,747, a quarter the size of the college I went to). I made my husband and my two daughters (and even my cousin Caitlin who came with us on this trip) get out and take a picture with this sign. At the last second, as the baby was crying and the toddler was whining, I just looked up and snapped one last photo of this sign. I eventually had a black and white made of it and I've always loved it but the "4" part of "Dumas 4" never meant much to me. I always planned that our family would be a family of 5 eventually. Today though, it reminds me that when I snapped that photo, on the side of the highway, in 100 degree heat, God knew I would need a sign. Dumas 4. It is, and always was, His plan for my life. I'm thankful for my sign. I needed a sign. I'd like to have that sign. I wonder what the fine is for stealing a sign that reads "Dumas 4." It might be worth it.

Monday, January 7, 2008

What a surprise!

“We have a surprise for you!” That was how my parents told me and my sister that we were going to have a little brother. A “surprise.” My sister said, “No really, what’s my real surprise?” A surprise indeed. Looking back, I don’t really know what my mom was thinking. She finally had both of her children in elementary school and she decided to start all over again with a baby. We loved him though. We played dress up with him. Poor kid, we treated him like a toy. He didn’t seem to mind too much as a baby but once he was a toddler, he wasn’t so much fun anymore. He destroyed our “stuff,” got in our way, tagged along to everything. He was a typical pesky little brother. We grew up in the same house but we eventually grew apart. He was a wild little boy, I was a quiet young girl. He was always getting in trouble, I tried my hardest to be good. All of the things I stayed away from in high school, he was chasing in middle school. We had nothing in common. As most girls do, I paid more attention to my friends and my boyfriend than my own brother. Girls, skateboards and computers were more important to him than his sister. Time went on and the differences between us seemed greater than ever. By the time I was in college, he was just my kid brother who was always in trouble. I remember at my wedding, he forced himself to wear a tuxedo and smile through his long blonde hair for pictures. I really appreciated that. The picture of my brother and my new husband together, both grinning, is priceless. He had a very different high school experience than I did. He got into lots of trouble trying new things and experiencing things he shouldn’t. I just prayed for his safety. I’ll never forget the day my first baby was born. My wild, trouble-maker brother came to the hospital to meet his first niece. I started making excuses for him to my doctor, “My little brother will be here soon. He dyed his hair bright yellow, like a highlighter. He’s a little . . . “ My doctor stopped me there. He said, “He’s your brother, here’s here while you have a baby. I deliver lots of babies to women with no family. He’s here for you, who cares what color his hair is.” We have priceless pictures of this young, yellow (not blonde, yellow!) haired punk kid holding my tiny newborn daughter. He finally graduated from high school, barely! I found his friends strange and scary and his girlfriends even worse. After a few years of community college, he transferred to great college in the Hill Country. He left behind several friends who would never step foot on a college campus. Most of the kids he “hung out” with, were still just “hanging out.” He began to really find himself. I like to say he began to use his powers for good, not evil! He started getting good grades in really hard classes. He was learning things I couldn’t even pronounce. Then came the call that he had met a girl. I could tell just from the way he described her, that she was different. I was thrilled when I met her and she was so nice, and so pretty. They were so in love. I wasn’t at all surprised when he told me he wanted to marry her. They were so compatible and lovely together. He proposed high upon a mountain in Durango, Colorado on a beautiful January day. She of course, said yes. He had arranged for a photographer to be there and captured every second on film. As I looked at the pictures of my pesky little brother, I began to see a man. He was smart, successful, kind, generous, and happy. What a surprise. My parents had no idea when they told us about that surprise, what a true surprise he would be.
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