Sunday, August 1, 2004

Pure love

This morning I was reminded of what pure love is. I walked into the bedroom and Brook was cuddled up with Pat watching TV. They did not see me as I was behind them. They had their arms around each other and Brook reached up to plant a kiss on Papaw’s cheek and patted his other cheek. He then kissed her on top of her head. Every time I see those 2 together my heart has a tight squeeze in it. I am so thankful that they have that bond between them.

When I first started keeping Brook, she was 5 weeks old. Pat was not to thrilled with her coming down here at 5 in the morning, sometimes earlier. See he does not get to bed until around 3 most nights. He works second shift. She was what you would call a good baby. Rarely fussy and had a quick smile for anyone. Even those days when she was sick she was a pleasant child. As time went by she seemed to gravitate more towards her Papaw. We saw her first steps, he doctored her first booboo .

Pat had a habit (a bad one) of feeding Susie bits of his breakfast. One day I turned around and there was brook on one side of him and Susie on the other side both begging. He would give Brook a bite and Susie a bite. He fed his whole breakfast to them. He looked up and saw me watching and asked me if Brook had eaten yet. After that day I had to fix him a double breakfast. To this day they both beg from him. Pat calls her his little bacon bandit.

Brook is my daughter’s child. Candiac is not Pat’s daughter. We are a family. Our love for each other is what bonds us . Blood does not mean you are a family. True love has no boundaries.


  1. This entry brought tears to my eyes--How wonderful that Pat has grown to love Brook like that---it must bring you so much joy!

  2. OM Gosh Celeste i thought she was your very awesome of you and PAt to be such wonderful grandparents. I am so glad she has you. How is everything going with Candiac anyhow? This was a very sweet entry.

  3. Tis true. My daughters 16 and 23 can attest to that. My husband is not thier blood father. But he is thier FATHER> He was there whe the 16 year old was born and he even thinks he remembers he was tehre for Tracy. Thats how real it is. Tracy says for her it seems that he is all she can remember. Lori

  4. i am already feeling weepy today and this made me cry. My oldest daughter mandy joined my family through adoption and I can attest to the fact that Blood does not make a family. I could not love my Mandy any more than if she grew inside of me. Like the famous adoption poem says, "You did not grow under my heart but in it."

    Thank you for the sweet comments. I was so sad and hurt, and people like you made me better. You "kissed my boo boos".

    BTW, I LOVE your face!  You look like someone I'd love to know in real life. :-)

  5. This reminds me of Cody:  When all my grandchildren were away... my son was stationed in Germany and my daughter moved to south Missouri... I was asked to babysit for a relative of my then-daughter-in-law.  The baby, Cody, was six months old.  Cliff worked second shift, so he was home most of the time Cody was here.  We really had a bond with that child, and I watched him for two years, till my son returned to the states.  I will always believe God send Cody to us to fill the gap.  

  6. Hello!  Thank you for visiting my journal and commenting on the idea of confessing.  I like this entry of yours.  I agree--I think love is the most important thing there is.  It is what all of my stories are about, how and why we love, how to hold on to love, how fragile love is.  I like fiction because I can wear a "mask" and the mask makes me feel comfortable to tell the "truth," although the infomation in the story is not necessarily "factual."  They say truth is stranger than fiction.  I also believe that fiction can be more truthful than facts--that is the premise I work under, anyway!  (smile).  It takes a long time to get to the truth of how you feel, your real feelings, your existence.  There are so many analogies to use, an onion skin, peeling back the layers, or a pool of water--going deeper than the surface reflection.  Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me!


    I added your journal address to my message by mistake--sorry!  --TW


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