Meeting Julie

Imagine standing at the terminal in the airport, waiting to pick up your mom from her flight, but you don't really know what she looks like.

Pandora put out this ad several weeks ago of these kids who are blindfolded, and they have to figure out from a line of moms which one belongs to them. It's a simple task for them, each kid making quick work of finding their beloved mommy. When I think of my own mom, there are so many features that are so recognizable and distinguishable that I have no doubt I could find her in a crowd of women just by touching her face...her short, soft, wavy hair...her perfectly sized nose...her ears, never without a pair of earrings...her small chin.

It was very weird for Chris to stand there, looking through a sea of faces pouring out of the terminal, searching for a face he's only seen in 2 or 3 pictures. It was weirder still to finally see her after realizing he had given her a friendly nod, then looked over her head to keep searching faces.

But there she was, walking straight towards our easily recognizable family of five. Julie was here! And before we knew it she had Chris in her arms.

All he's ever had was the knowledge that his red hair came from his mother, and a name. Julie Batey. We've said that name so many times, wondering if he would ever find her, wondering what would happen if he did.

Well here we are! And she's great! Can you see the resemblance?

She's a kind woman with a thick Tennessee drawl that takes me straight back to the south when she talks. She's an awesome grandmother, loving and spoiling her grand kids back home whenever she can, which she immediately began on our three the moment she laid eyes on them. She's a fighter, having lived through 2 liver transplants and a kidney transplant 14 years ago.

Our weekend with Julie was so special: We took the kids to the splash pad. We ate donuts and ice cream and burgers and fries. She took the girls shopping, letting each of them pick out a new dress. She sat with Chris, looking through his childhood scrapbook his mom made him before she died. She showed him pictures of strangers that are his brother, nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles, and she told lots of stories to make them feel a little more familiar in our minds. We had a picnic in the park and walked down to the lake. She bonded with my mom, and the two nanas were instant friends. We called her 'New Nana' so the girls would know which one we were talking about, and I think the name may have stuck! (No, we will not call my mom 'Old Nana', I know better than that!)

And we learned that she quit smoking for him. This is a big deal...Chris was raised in a family of smokers. He watched his beloved Aunt Pat suffer through lung cancer twice, only to die from it at far too young an age. His mom followed suit, dying from the same cancer 5 years ago. After his sister visited in March, Dayna went home and told Julie that she had to quit smoking for his hatred of it. And she did...just like that. She hasn't picked up another one since!

It's hard to hear a stranger say 'I love you' and just believe it. But giving up such a gripping addiction without a second thought speaks louder than any of the words they've spoken so far.

On the night she arrived, which happened to be Chris' birthday, she told us that every year on that day she would go to the park alone before work and think of him. Can you imagine? Remembering and longing and hoping for him. Having a piece of your heart out there in the world somewhere, not knowing if you'll ever get it back...

Then, 36 years later, she gets to look into his eyes, hug him, and see that he's okay. 

Julie really wanted to get Chris a birthday present. She wanted him to get something really good and fun, for all the birthdays she missed. But he was hesitant, worrying that the family back in Nashville would think he was trying to take advantage. Not the least of them, a brother who didn't even know Chris existed until just 3 months ago. But Julie lovingly insisted, and eventually Chris accepted. On Monday the three of us went shopping for a ukulele on our way to the airport. (This was one of my favorite parts, since those of you who have read for a while know that I think birthdays...especially my kids' birthdays...are the best!) 

The girls had a really hard time the night before she left. After tucking them in, both girls started to cry and ask for New Nana. She came in and hugged them both again, promising them their own days when Nana would call them: Harper on Fridays, Kinley on Tuesdays. This cheered them up and put a huge smile on my face. It's hard having most of your family live so far away. It's a lot harder with kids. Knowing she will call weekly to talk to them makes it all easier. 

It was a great weekend asking questions, telling stories, and making memories. It feels like such a gift...meeting her and Dayna, and finding more family to enjoy.

To all of our family, those we've just found and those who have always been: we love you, we are grateful for you, and our lives are richer because of you.