
Now, here I sit, looking out my window at the cobblestone streets below and I realize I have the perfect family. Our adoptions, completely different from one another, share the same common thread of love. That single thread that will weave the most beautiful tapestry in the years to come without forgetting their past. Our girls have shared a difficult life together, but somehow have fond memories of that early childhood. Who knows, that may change in the years to come but right now we let them enjoy what memories they have and one day, if they learn the truth may they have open hearts to forgive and realize it had nothing to do with them.
Once again, the air has turned cold. There is a bite in the air that tells the restaurant owners to roll up the sidewalks and wait till the spring thaw to bring them sidewalk cafes back out. The frost from my breath tells me, it's time. As much as I look forward to the return home and seeing my family, my pups and feeling the warmth in the air I will truly miss my time being here. Not only is Riga a beautiful old city but the people and their way of life. Yes, I am not a fan of the "man purse" but that is just the way things are here. I can do without the hordes of smokers but that is another part of life here. It's fun picking out the Russians from the Latvians and watching the women try to walk in high heel shoes on cobblestone streets. Adventure is right out my door and I'm lucky I have a family that seeks adventures. Also a cherished custom is that ‘downtime’ here is truly downtime. A day off actually means a day off, not a day to run a million errands. I believe this part meant so much to Sheri who tries like so many Americans to pack as much into one day as possible. It has been a pleasure watching Sheri decompress the last month and really enjoy the Latvian lifestyle. Despite the cold I know Sheri will truly miss this special time as she re-enters the working mother environment, but hopefully with a few lessons learned.
But mostly, I will miss my Latvian family, we will all miss Ilze. She has done so much for Sheri and I. My words cannot articulate the sincere gratitude and love we have for you. You have help build our family and made our dreams come true. Both of my girls adore you and that alone is enough for me. I don't think we can ever repay you for your help, kindness and simply being our friend. I hate saying goodbye so I will simply say, till we see each other again. We have also really enjoyed the time spent with Ilze’s family, a group of beautiful souls, but with Ilze as their mother we expect nothing less.
There are a few people that I have never spoken about, their biological parents. We have very little information on them and what we do know is simply pieced together from old reports. But as I think about my two daughters I can't imagine the thought of ever losing them or having them taken away from me. The absolute grief that would rip my heart apart would haunt me for the rest of my life. The only salvation would be knowing my girls were loved and taken care of. I have no way of contacting them and if I did I don't think I would. To be honest, I have no love or hate for them. I don't know them or their circumstances or what events took place so long ago. But if I had a chance to write them without them knowing who I was, I think these are the words I would choose.


Dear Bio-Parent,
I'm
not sure of the exact reasons you had to give up your precious daughters but I
know it must have been a heart-breaking decision on your part, whether through
your own fault or another. The Ancient Greeks have a name for this: "Agape
Love". This kind of love is called "the selfless love. This was a love that you show family
members or distant strangers. Agape was later
translated into Latin as caritas,
which is the origin of our word "charity." You have shown Agape love in the truest sense.
For whatever those reasons are, I am so thankful
that it was Sheri and I that found our long lost daughters. Oh sure, not
biologically but in ways you probably won't understand. To us, there is no
difference. These two girls are as much a part of us as if we had given birth
to them ourselves. From the moment they were born they have always been ours
and we thank you for bringing them into life.
Families are not defined by our genes but rather
built, shared, nurtured and maintained through love. My favorite quote goes
something like this: "Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone, but
still miraculously my own. Never forget for a single minute, that from the
moment you were born you didn't grow under my heart but IN IT".
Just so you know we are head-over heels,
passionately, heart-palpitating, madly, deeply, time stands still, in love with
these girls, our daughters. It is our hope that one day you can relish in
the girls’ triumphs from afar. Knowing that your charity was the greatest gift
you could have given them whether it was through your own action or someone else’s.
Should the day come, somewhere in the future, that these girls want to know about their birth parents and eventually seek you out. It is my hope that you are the kind of person(s) they thought you were – that may be; good, bad or indifferent. Because in the end it’s only my girls’ hearts that matter. Should they ask me about you and why you did the things you did. I will not belittle you in any way. No child should ever think about their bio-parents like that. In return, I would ask you to spare their hearts for it is knowledge that they seek.
-
their Father - Bobbi
It’s approaching 10:30pm now and in 5 ½
hours our Taxi will be here to take us away. We just left Ilze and her three
boys for a farewell celebration at the top of the Blu. There was no better way
to end this adventure than with the ones we cherish the most. This trip was more about family and friends
than it was about anything else. Ilze holds a very special place in our hearts
and both Sanija and Natalija adore her beyond words. Sheri and I said tonight that we would not
have appreciated this trip as much had we not walked through the experience of
our first adoption with Sanija. It’s an
old cliché but what a difference a year can make. And as a side, this final day here is Riga
just happens to be the birthday of my dad, who not only helped in more ways
than he will ever know, but would have loved these girls just as much as we
do. With that, Sheri and I toasted dad, not only to say ‘happy birthday, but to say ‘thank you, we love you and we think
you would be proud.”
This will be my last post. I want to
thank all those who have followed our tremendous journey with us. Your love for
our two girls is inspirational and Sheri and I thank you. I sincerely hope that
sometime in the distant future my words will once again be read for the first
time by a young lady who goes by the name Nata. I hope my words will saturate
her heart with the love that her forever Mommy and Daddy has for her.
We love you Natalija