Three-Part Post: Morning Rituals, Graduation Gift Update, and Facing Facts

[I decided this morning I wanted to get all my ideas out in one post.  This is going to be a very long post, because I have a lot to say about each idea, and there are three ideas.  You have been warned.]

--Morning Rituals: I am not sure that people who read this blog appreciate how much Judaism completely rules my life when I am in a "Jewish phase"...not that I would have it any other way. Each morning, as I hop out of bed, I grab my "pajamas kippah" and put it on, singing "Modah Ani" ( a hymn about God returning souls to bodies in the morning; there's a legend that God takes them overnight) as I rush to turn the light on and ritually wash hands.  For hand washing, I use the set pictured below.

Both cup and towel were from the Emanuel Judaica site.  The towel I tacked on a Hannukah gift years ago, I think the year I got my menorah; my parents usually let me tack on something little to something big that they are paying for.  The embroidery on the towel is of two grape clusters, with the last words of the hand washing blessing in between.

--Graduation Gift Update: Finally, finally, finally my parents are sending me the money for my graduation gift! It's going to be a bit different from what I last described here.  Instead of the pink candle sticks, I have chosen a one-piece candelabrum.  It sort of swoops like a roller coaster (it's also very hard to describe in words), and the color matches the runner I always put underneath my Sabbath and holiday candles.

Along with the candelabrum, I am getting my 37th kippah! (I said I had 37 in my last entry, but I was wrong; I currently have 36.)  This one is going to be every bit as special as my high school graduation gift kippah, and then those two will be the most special in the whole collection.  Like that one, the one I am anticipating getting is hat-size and hand embroidered; The color scheme of this one will be blue and purple.

The kippah/hat I am getting as part of my college graduation gift will also be my first Jerusalem scene.  From the time I first started wearing a kippah full time (a little before high school) till about a year and a half ago (so figure about eight years), I was adamantly opposed to "putting Jerusalem on my head."  Then I fell in love with the kippah I just described, and decided to make "just one exception."  Well, you all know how that goes...half the kippot I picked out for my Hannukah gift are Jerusalem scenes!

--Facing Facts: In my last letter to God, I faced the fact that my "Jacob" is slowly dying, and I explored what that might mean for me.  (It's selfish to think of myself that way, but it will mean something for me.)  Every year, on Rosh Hashanah (New Year) and Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement) services, at the U'N'taneh Tokef prayer, I think about my "Jacob."  U'N'taneh Tokef is really about consequences of sin, and it talks in detail about various kinds of death. As strongly suggested, I do think about my own sins/behavior during this point in the service, but I also think about my "Jacob."  Most unfortunately, his life hangs in the balance in a much more tangible way than mine...he did nothing to deserve that.

Now, an Aging-Out child, a girl this time.  Here is "PAIGE," aging out within the nest EIGHTEEN MONTHS, diagnosed with DOWN SYNDROME, SEVERE MENTAL DELAY, and HYDROCEPHALUS.  

Frantic

I am worried, frightened, terrified...in a word, yes, frantic, about the well being of my "Jacob."  And I know I posted all this two days ago, and again yesterday, but this is my blog where I record feelings; I'm still feeling the feelings about him today, so I am going to post them again.

First of all, for years and years--ever since I first started praying for him, May 28th 2013--I assumed that the pictures on Reece's Rainbow were baby pictures, and that Jacob happened to be a thin baby.  I assumed that not because it was impossible that things would be otherwise (yes I know orphanages regularly starve children), but because it was too impossible to contemplate things being otherwise. No other child for whom I'd prayed looked that thin, that little, that lost.  A couple days ago, however, I realized something: to the best of my knowledge, Reece's Rainbow gets their pictures around the time when they list the kids.  That's no baby in that photo..."Jacob" would have been very nearly three years old.

Second of all, I no longer have any idea what-all is wrong with him, and that frightens me.  I have written here, all along, that he has Down Syndrome and a heart condition.  I believe he has the heart condition, which is now described as much more complex and serious than it was before this update. However, the website does not say he has Down Syndrome; the direct quote is "Jacob's tests suggest Down Syndrome."  Here's the thing: a test can't "suggest" Down Syndrome.  All you need to do is test for an extra chromosome: the child either has it or s/he doesn't.

Even if "Jacob" does have Down Syndrome, at this point I'm convinced that's not all he has.  (That was my mother's suggestion first, actually, but it makes too much sense to ignore.)  At the age of six, SIX, "Jacob" can roll over, but not sit or crawl; and he can throw toys and track them with his eyes. I have perused updates of kids on that site for years.  They always point out the kids' best skills and attributes.  "Jacob's" description pointing out that he can track objects with his eyes means that's the best he can do.  Does anyone need reminding that he's SIX YEARS OLD?

Over the years, I have really come to care about "Jacob"...or at least the little I know of him over the internet.  Every time I think, talk, or write about his current situation, my eyes burn and I have to wink back tears.  That never happened with any other child for whom I have been Prayer Warrior.

But then, I haven't actively "prayed home" any other child for nearly as long.  The child for whom I prayed longest, other than "Jacob," was "Rheann," whom I gave up on after her country outlawed American adoptions and Reece's Rainbow reallocated the kids' grant money.  "Rheann" had been "mine" for about a year and a half at that point.  My first child, "Grady," found a home in a matter of months after I started praying for him, and my third, "Isabella," in a matter of weeks.

I have no idea if what I do does any good.  It's not that I have no idea if God listens--I know God too intimately for that, and I can tell you all right now, for a fact, that God listens--it's that I'm not sure what God does with the listening.  Certainly God doesn't save every starving, disabled child on the planet just because s/he has someone praying for him/her; but whether God can't, or just doesn't, or what or why, I'm not sure.

So I have to keep trying to get God to work a miracle on "Jacob's" behalf.  And I do try.  (I write this paragraph not trying to get anyone's approval of me, but just because I am recording thoughts.)  I pray for "Jacob" in the Personal Prayers section of the Central Standing Prayer every time I pray it during the week, currently three times daily, as required.  I also talk to God a little bit about "Jacob" right before I go to sleep at night.  "Jacob's" picture is on my computer screen; I whisper prayers for him every time I see it.  I also write letters to God...many letters to God...about him.  I counted the other day; I have more than 30 letters to God just about "Jacob!"

So in the end, that's all I can do: "storm Heaven," as my Christian compatriots would say, trying to make a difference.  This new information isn't new to "Jacob's" life, or to the All-Knowing God.  It's only new to me.

It's only new to me.  Nothing has changed.

And I will end the post with "Jacob's" pictures.

 

Second Entry Today: So Sweet, and Kippah Collection

[Please note that this is the second entry today.  I wanted to ensure both entries got seen, because both are tremendously important...and they're on nearly opposite topics, so it didn't make conceptual sense to do them as one entry, anyway.  Still, do please scroll down and see the first.]

As always when this happens, I have slipped easily and seamlessly back into being the "most Jewish Jew," for lack of a better term, that I can possibly be...and I don't know how I possibly managed to stay away for the months and months that I did.  Yesterday I prayed all three times, and I did it again this morning; wearing the arm thingy makes me want to scream from pain, but I can wear the head thingy, and my prayer shawl, and pray; and that is either two and a half commandments out of three, or three commandments out of four, fulfilled.

This morning, after springing out of bed singing the hymn one sings at that moment, I washed my hands ritually, using my gorgeous, expensive cup and towel I got from the Emanuel Judaica site.  The cup is brushed metal (purple, my favorite color), a nice sleek design; the towel is cream colored, embroidered with the end words of the blessing for hand washing surrounded by grape clusters.  I hadn't used that set in far too long...and it's too beautiful (and too expensive) not to use.

I've also gotten back into writing letters to God.  I am limiting myself to two a day because stationery is expensive, but I feel a real connection.  Of course actually writing the letter is not praying the letter; I have to read it out loud for God to "hear."  I do not think of God this concretely, but lately I've noticed that God and I connect just the tiniest bit before I write, and God "tells me what name to use" for Him/Her in order to foster and nurture further connection.

For a long time after I switched how I signed the letters (I used to sign "Love, Your Girl" but I realized a while back that I am no longer a girl so I switched to "Love from a Young Jewish Woman") I needed to use traditional, Hebrew, masculine names for God.  It was as if only one of us could pivot at a time; while I was whirling, God needed to stay still.  I'm back on my feet now, with the new signature, and I am now once again addressing God with mystical, feminine titles--and not always Hebrew.

I have decided that I would like four more kippot, all from the Emanuel Judaica site, as my Hannukah gift.  (Yes, Hannukah is five months away.  I plan in advance and change my mind fifty times.)  I think all of the ones I picked out were designed by Yair Emanuel himself.  I will post my own picture of them when I get them, but posting their website pictures is a pain, so I will just describe them in the paragraph below.

The first two that I picked out--meaning half the ones I am getting--are painted silk, which doesn't surprise me at all.  My very favorite of my "week day" (meaning not gigantic hat size) kippot is painted silk; I adore the look, and only have one.  One of the ones I plan to get for Hannukah is called "tribes red," and the other is "Jerusalem turquoise."  The other two are embroidered, one silk and one velvet.  The silk one is white, with a border of embroidered gray geometric shapes; I've wanted that one for a while now, and I need another white "week day" one (both because white goes with anything and to wear on Yom Kippur, Day of Atonement) since I gave mine to Sami.  The last one I picked out, the velvet one, is midnight blue with an ice blue Jerusalem scene border.

The only thing that surprised me about this group of kippot as my favorites right now is that half of them are Jerusalem scenes.  There was a time--and it lasted for years--when I always said "I'm not putting Jerusalem on my head.  It's fine if you like that look; I don't."  Then I fell in love with the Friday-and-holiday-evening size blue and purple embroidered Jerusalem scene kippah that I am getting as part of my college graduation gift, and I decided to make an exception for that one.  Then I got something from the Emanuel Judaica site (don't remember what at this point; I've gotten a lot of things from there) and it came with a tag that has--you guessed it--a Jerusalem scene on it.  I am using that tag as book mark in my Psalms.

Next, I got a tzedakah box with a Jerusalem scene on it, primarily because it locked and I liked that, but I will admit I enjoyed the traditional motif.  If I go through with this Hannukah gift plan--and I really think I will, as it feels so right--I will have five Jewish items with Jerusalem scenes: three kippot, a tzedakah box, and a book mark.

And speaking of kippot, I really want my friend Brian to see my collection.  The best way is for me to photograph each one.  So I will do that now, and post the photographs below.  (PS I couldn't photograph the one on my head, obviously.  It's the rust brown one with white menorah border, from Uganda.) (PPS Apparently I lost count...I thought I had 36, but I actually have 37.)

Pink suede, from my Bat Mitzvah.  I really don't like the suede ones, and would never choose them now, but at the time I wasn't yet collecting (or even wearing one regularly...) and didn't have style opinions.  I did have color opinions--pink and purple--which my parents abided by.  Even though they were suede, I saved one of each color (you'll see the purple one farther down), first because they came from my Bat Mitzvah, and second because I plan to only wear suede ones to work once I start teaching; I think they are more business like.

Hand crocheted by my good friend Sami.  I paid him a visit to collect the first one he made me (you'll see that farther down too), and as he finished he asked me to pick four colors for another one.  I suggested he wait till my birthday so he had a reason.  He said: "C'mon, I like crocheting projects! Pick four colors."  So I picked out two pinks and two purples; looking at this, I think he actually got in three of each.  I wore this kippah every day of my last Ketamine treatment, and it helped tremendously to have something tangible reminding me of a good friend.

Machine embroidered silk by designer Yair Emanuel.  The website calls this one "pink with pomegranates."

Machine embroidered silk by designer Yair Emanuel.  The website calls this one "geometric shapes magenta," though that background looks more like burgundy to me.

Red dragon! Handmade, bought from an Etsy seller.  There were several dragons available, but I specifically needed the red one to go with undergrad university t-shirts.  I don't wear this one very often; when I do, I use strong clips, because it is prone to flipping inside out.

(Please excuse blurriness of photo; my hands shake, especially in the morning, and sometimes that affects my photography.)  Machine embroidered silk by designer Yair Emanuel.  This is actually the first one I got specifically to go with undergrad university t-shirts.  The website calls it "flowers magenta," but again, to me that background is more of a burgundy.

"Family heirloom," meaning I found it in the drawer and asked if I could keep it.  I think my mother may have worn it at some point when she was briefly trying out wearing a kippah.  This one is the "hat size" that I wear, always and only, on Friday nights and holiday nights.

Another "hat size" one, this one machine embroidered silk by designer Yair Emanuel.  I actually had to buy it twice.  The first time, they said they didn't have it, and they would refund me if I gave them my information.  I refused.  Next time I had money, I tried again, and that time it worked.  The only other thing to tell you about this one is that somewhere that looks like part of the embroidery is a tiny burn hole.  I was carrying what I thought were dead matches, and reached up to scratch my head...yeah, well, apparently they were not dead.

Now we start the blue ones, Brian's favorite color! I have more blue ones than any other color; in fact, I have...ten daytime blue ones, and 11 if you count my "pajamas kippah."  (I will explain that later.)  Anyway, this one is navy blue suede, from my high school graduation.

Newer navy blue suede, with notched blue and silver border, from random Bar Mitzvah at synagogue I attend in the city.  (I will always take a free kippah...always.)

Royal blue suede, notched red and silver border, from random Bar Mitzvah at synagogue I attend in the city.

Turquoise suede, from  random Bar Mitzvah, at synagogue I attend in the city.

Turquoise satin, from random Bat Mitzvah on my undergrad university campus.  This is not your average Bat Mitzvah kippah, however.  It was handmade by the family, and it has an internal clip.  (Not that I ever learned to use the internal clip--I just use regular clips on the outside--but I think the fact of its existence is cool.)

(Again, apologies for the blurry photo.)  Turquoise canvas, from random Bat Mitzvah at synagogue I attend in the city.  This was actually from the one when I was too sick (not chronic conditions, just sick) to stay in services, and went home...but I made sure to grab the Bat Mitzvah kippah.

When so many of my blue ones are from B'nei Mitzvah (correct plural of Bar-and-Bat-Mitzvahs), this one is the pride and joy of my blue stack.  It is--you guessed it--machine embroidered silk by designer Yair Emanuel.

Cheap satin, the kind of kippah my father calls a "Bar Mitzvah beanie" and refuses to wear, from a random Bar Mitzvah at the synagogue I attend in the city.  I do not refuse to wear this style, because I mostly refuse to wear the suede ones, and if a person is collecting kippot and wearing one every day, that person cannot afford to boycott two styles.

And another cheap satin "Bar Mitzvah beanie," from a random Bar Mitzvah at the synagogue I attend in the city.  If I remember correctly, my father was actually visiting that week, and explained to Sami why Bar Mitzvah beanies are bad.

[And I'll just put this note here: I do have another blue one, a navy blue crochet.  It is also from a random Bat Mitzvah at the synagogue I attend in the city...and no, it's not normally affordable to provide crocheted kippot for a Bat Mitzvah's worth of guests.  Anyway, I did photograph it, but somehow it wound up at the very end.  Oh well.  Now you know to look for it there.]

(Another blurry one, and again I apologize.  Still, even when the photo is blurry, you can get a general idea of what the kippah looks like.)  Kippah s'rugah, translates to crocheted kippah, from Kippah Man on Ben Yehudah street in Jerusalem.  I got three there: this one, one as a gift for my brother (and yes, I called him through a seven-hour time difference to discuss what he wanted), and my ultra-Orthodox "yeshiva bucher" one.  I originally bought that last one to thumb my nose at the ultra-Orthodox; now I have it for a more important reason, as will be discussed down below.

Lavender suede (and faded now) from college roommate's wedding.  That was the only Orthodox wedding I ever attended: long story short, it made me so angry I said to myself that I would only sit through it again for a very dear friend...and so far no very dear Orthodox friends have invited me to their weddings.

Purple suede, from my own Bat Mitzvah.  This is not the exact same one, just another one I grabbed for the collection, but for a while when I first started wearing a kippah all the time, I wore one of these.  In my passport photo, I am wearing one of these.  (I like to remember which kippah I am wearing in which legal photo...I don't know why.)

Hands down, my favorite of my "week day" size ones, second favorite in the entire collection! Hand painted silk by designer Yair Emanuel.  The figures are the right colors; the background was supposed to be blue, but somehow I ended up with this fuchsia/magenta instead.  At the time I was annoyed--I had specifically wanted another blue one, because at the time I only had one, and I wore a lot of blue--but now I like it better this way.  I have other blue ones, and this one is beautiful.

And this one is my favorite...out of 37, my favorite! A kippah as special as this doesn't happen every day.  this one is hat size, HAND embroidered...and it cost 35 dollars, which is the reason it doesn't happen every day.  This one was a high school graduation gift...I am getting one to rival it as part of my college graduation gift.

This is the first one Sami made for me! I asked for green, because I didn't have a green one yet; and he asked if he could mix yellow...and I pointed out that he was the one making it, so go ahead.  Subsequently I realized that I didn't have a yellow one yet either, so perfect.  This one was part of a swap: he made this one for me, and I gave him one from my collection.  I gave his to him because he was working on conversion, and I give all my friends who convert something Jewish of mine (kippot for the guys; I would give kippot to the women, too, but the only female friend of mine who ever converted said she wouldn't wear it, so I gave her a Star of David pendant).  I wanted the one I gave Sami to be a real gift; for that it had to be hard to part with, so I went for my machine embroidered silk Yair Emanuel ones.  I did give him the one I'd miss least out of those five (white with gold and silver branches)...I do miss it.  It was worth it, though, if this was the result.

Plain raw silk, gold.  A more muted tone than it looked to be on the website, but that's OK; just makes it more versatile.  Oh, and it's another Yair Emanuel, just in case that wasn't obvious.

Black velvet, from my younger brother's Bar Mitzvah.  (I don't have one from my older brother's bar Mitzvah because I wasn't collecting or wearing kippot then; if I remember correctly his were green corduroy.)  I had to stitch the lining back on to this one recently, but I used black thread and the stitches just disappeared into the nice plush velvet.

Came with my older brother's Bar Mitzvah prayer shawl, and therefore I know the designer to be Gabrieli.  I found this one in a laundry basket last Summer, brought it to my brother, and asked if I could have it.  He said I could!

Genuine US Army issue, not from the latest camouflage, but from the one before, which is being phased out.  I had to stitch part of the lining of this one back on, too, and the stitches did not disappear as well.  When Israel was at war with Gaza in 2012, and I was in the hospital in Philadelphia trying to rehab my RSD (and therefore cut off from the Jewish community), this was the only kippah I would wear...it was the best and only way I had to show my support.

Gay pride! Second most expensive kippah in the collection (24 dollars, though I forget if that was with or without shipping), and it's the smallest.  However, it is hand crocheted (found it on Etsy), and it was the cheapest gay pride kippah I could find...and being able to express my sexuality and my religion together was easily worth 24 dollars to me.  I'd pay it all over again.

My very first kippah, a gift from my father when I was eight! I don't know why, but I don't really like this one and seldom wear it.  Still, it has sentimental value, and I'll never part with it.

My second kippah, a gift from my father when I was ten! This one I like much better, and will often wear if I need a small one that is sturdier than the painted silk, but less rugged than the suede.

And this one came with my Bat Mitzvah prayer shawl.  It is very faded now; for example, the gray background (the reason it's with this group) was once purple.

Another "family heirloom;" see maroon velvet above for what that actually means.  This one is hard to deal with because it's too big for clips and too small to hug the wearer's head.  Still, I started a tradition last year, and will continue it this year, of wearing this kippah to Kol Nidre, the evening service opening the Day of Atonement.  On the Day of Atonement we are supposed to wear white.

I call these my "special occasion" kippot.  The black one on the left is the one I originally got to thumb my nose at the ultra-Orthodox, which I now wear on especially solemn or sad days.  (It started as a thing to do on Holocaust Remembrance Day, but I wanted to wear it more than one day a year, so I expanded to Israel's Memorial Day and any fast day I'm observing...obviously except for the Day of Atonement, when we are supposed to wear white.)  The blue and pink chunky knit is my "pajamas kippah."  Everyone who hears that gets confused, and asks if I wear a kippah to sleep.  The answer is no--even according to the strictest opinions, kippot only need to be worn when moving around--but there is usually some time after I am in a nightgown and before I go to bed, or in the early morning the other way around, and I do need a kippah then.  Sometimes I do evening prayers in a nightgown; I definitely need a kippah then! So that is what the "pajamas kippah" is for.

This is the navy blue crochet that didn't load properly with the blue ones.  Again, I got it at a random Bat Mitzvah I attended in the city...and no, most families cannot afford to provide kippot that nice in bulk.

Now a Reece's Rainbow child...you should know by now that, whatever else I'm posting, I would not forget to do this! I believe I'm "supposed' to post a boy this time.  (My only rule for whom to post out of that age group is that I alternate gender.)  I think I'll see if I can find one from my "Jacob's" country, to honor him...this is "SAUL," aging out in DECEMBER, with NEPHRITIC SYNDROME, and POST-OP CLEFT LIP AND PALATE.

First Entry Today: Break. My. Heart.

[Please note that I have two topics to discuss today.  They are almost opposites, and I want to make sure they both get seen, so I am posting them as two separate posts.  This is the first.]

Please call to mind the picture of my "Jacob" that I always share second, that little tiny child in the baby seat.  That's a one-year-old, right? Two years old at the most.

It tears me up to say this, but I think that's wrong.  "Jacob" was listed on Reece's Rainbow--and therefore that's probably when the pictures were taken--just about a month shy of his third birthday. That's a three-year-old in those pictures.

Go back and look once more.  I know, it kills me too.  You see, over the years of praying for him, I have come to love my "Jacob."  How could it be any other way, when day in, day out, I mention him to God at least once? I care what happens to him; when I wrote to God about him yesterday, I was literally almost shedding tears.

I'll include the picture of "Jacob" in the seat here, just in case anyone needs it for reference:



And here is this post's aging-out kid, a girl this time, "CLARA." All it says about her age is that she was born in 2001, but remember, if she's listed on that page, she has at most EIGHTEEN MONTHS.  "Clara's" disabilities are: SENSORINEURAL BILATERAL HEARING LOSS, EXPRESSIVE LANGUAGE DISORDER.  However, her description specifies that she can talk.

Alive and Kicking...and Bad News

Believe it or not, with everything through which I am am suffering, my spiritual life is alive and kicking.  Even in my downtime, when I was being "not religious," I really was still being religious. That is to say, I was still wearing a tallit katan and kippah each and every day...I really feel naked without those, so it was easy to remember.  I also still kept kosher and observed the Sabbath; I said appropriate blessings at the right opportunities, and every single day I read at least one psalm and at least one Bible chapter (in English)...sometimes more.  So I'm not sure you could call that religious downtime.

Regardless of whether what I described above could be counted as downtime or not, I am back to religion full force now.  I hadn't been praying ritually at all because I can't wear the arm piece of my tefillin without wanting to scream from the pain.  However, yesterday I woke up to the fact that I can still pray with prayer shawl and the head piece, fulfilling either two and a half commandments out of three, or three commandments out of four, depending on whose opinion you follow.  (The difference in numbers is about whether the teffillin are two separate commandments or one together.)   Armed with that knowledge, I could not stay away from prayer.

I am also writing to God again: yes, physical letters, by hand, on stationery. Until last night, I literally hadn't done that in months, not since the pain got bad again.  What I am discovering, however, is that in times of distress, I need God more, not less...that sounds obvious but believe me, nothing's obvious with health like mine. To make the whole process oversimplified and too concrete, when I write to God, God answers, and we spend time together.

Because writing to God has such powerful effects, I can only safely do it once a day.  Oh, and the interesting thing is that the "best" name I've found for God--the one that makes me feel safe, cozy, and protected; which is what I most need from God right now--is a masculine title.  This is so interesting only because, at least consciously, I always thought of God as feminine.  It is, however, also a traditional Hebrew title; there are precious few Hebrew feminine terms for God.

Having described my spiritual life in great detail, I now turn to the bad news I must share.  This news is so bad it literally makes my stomach flop.

You may remember that I am Prayer Warrior for a little boy listed on Reece's Rainbow.  "Jacob" turned six this past June, and his description had not been updated in the three years that I had been praying for him.  I thought it might help his chances for adoption if families knew, for example, whether or not he was talking.  (With Down syndrome, it is possible that he's still not talking at age six; however, with a three-year-old description it was also possible that now he is.)  This new description includes more information about his heart condition--stuff that makes me worry--and more about what he can and cannot do physically, also bad news.

I don't know what to do for "Jacob" except to keep shouting: to God in my daily prayers and to people through my blog.  So right below this paragraph, I am including "Jacob's" pictures (which have not been updated) and his new description.



"Jacob

"Boy, born June 2010
PRC

"Jacob's tests suggest Down Syndrome.  An ultrasound dictation in his file also hints that he looks to have congenital heart disease and an interventricular septum membrane department tumor and defect. His heart has normal cardiac function.

"This little guy needs a mommy and some good nutrition!
He is not speaking yet but does understand the word "no".  He is restless and stubborn.  He does not like baths and cries during them but can be comforted with food or being held.  Jacob can roll but has poor muscle tone.  He is unable to sit or crawl.  He can hold objects and throw them and his eyes will follow objects.  Jacob does well playing alone but also gets along well with other children.

"Jacob is a very lovable little boy.  All of us like him very much.  We hope that he can find a home which loves him very much early in which he can enjoy the love of parents and owns a happy childhood, nice future.  We believe he will bring much happiness to your family."

Now, "Jacob" or no "Jacob", I must continue in my mission to post one of the oldest kinds with each blog post, the ones who have at most 18 months, and very often less, before they can no longer be adopted.  In this post, I cam sharing a boy.  So, please meet "MORRIS."  "Morris" was born in October 2001; that gives him FOURTEEN MONTHS for a family to get to him! "Morris's" disaiblities are: SIGNIFICANT MENTAL DELAYS, HYDROCEPHALY, SPASTIC PARESIS and INBORN PARTIAL OPTIC ATROPHY.

Bipolar Poetry

I am mid-bipolar episode again, and it's bad.  I no longer give details on my blog; those have become more personal as I've grown older.  I will say, however, that this episode is worse than I've had in years; we all thought it wasn't possible for me to episode like this anymore.  Why am I telling you all this? Because I write my best poetry when I am mid-episode, and I'd like to share some recent poems with you.  I will skip one line between title and poem, and three lines from the end of one poem to the title of the next.



The Madness

Caught up  in the madness again.

That's what they call "episode,"
That swirling place
Of Nowhere's-Home.

Caught up in the madness again.
Teetering,
Tottering,
Hither and yon.

Caught up in the madness again.

Short of breath.
Pounding heart.
Racing thoughts,
Tumbled words.

Caught up in the madness again.



Optimal Writing Conditions

I write best when I'm manic.
It may be ironic, but
I write best when I'm manic.

Swirling shores
Of grainy sand:
Each grain separate,
Countable.

Ocean waves come crashing,
And splish!
Splash!
Drag me away.

Do you see it now?
Can you understand?

The ocean waves drag me away.
I write best when I'm manic.



My Constant

He keeps me going.
Oh "Jacob," do you know?
You keep me going.

When I have nothing left,
I cry on your behalf.
When darkness tornadoes me up,
I shout on your behalf.
And when it sets me down,
I scream on your behalf.

You are my constant.
You--
And all the others
Who need prayer.

If I can shout for you,
Then I'm OK.



And in honor of the last poem, ending this post with "Jacob's" pictures:

Recent Happenings: Pain, Brian, and a Tiny Miracle

--First of all, let's get it over with: Pain.  I have been in so much of it, so many days become the worst I've ever had...because the pain just creeps worse, and worse, and worse.  I saw my pain specialist Friday, and she actually said, "I'm stumped."  I think I felt the bottom drop out of my world when I heard that.  As I put it to someone today so he would know and understand how bad this was, "Up to a seven I don't complain...but it never, ever drops even that low anymore."  I am desperate, truly desperate.

--Now, something more cheerful: Recently, I think last Tuesday, a long-lost friend made contact with me! Brian (real name used with permission) and I took a Creative Writing course together in Fall 2014.  I hadn't spoken to him since--almost two years--but he had been trying to find me since the course ended! Thursday we finally talked on the phone...for TWO HOURS.  He has come alongside me in my time of need, and he is wonderfully there for me.  He loves me and cares about me...not that he's said so yet, but he doesn't have to.  It's obvious to me from our conversations.  We plan to go to a museum together next Sunday.  As always now, I will have to do it in a wheelchair...but that's not a problem because I fully trust him to push it properly.

--And, the tiny miracle: When the Rabbi at the Orthodox synagogue I now attend heard how much pain I was in, and that my doctor couldn't do anything more, he insisted on taking me to the grave of the Rebbe (last great leader of the Chabad movement) to pray for healing.  I didn't think it would do much good, but I could tell the Rabbi really wanted to help and this was the very best he had to offer, so I agreed to go along.  On the car ride there, I was at a 10 out of 10, and thinking "I shouldn't have come; it's not going to do anything, and the bumpy car rides are just going to make me worse."  And yet, somehow, on the car ride back, I felt better! That absolutely should not have been possible, what with riding over bumpy roads, the stairs at the building, and standing up, without leaning on anything, next to the grave for about 10 minutes.  Yet it did! Now it brought me from a 10 to a nine--still an unbelievable, unimaginable amount of pain--but I will take whatever I can get.

--To end my post, here is a Reece's Rainbow Aging-Out child.  With this entry, it is time to post a girl.  So, please meet "ASHLEY," diagnosed with DOWN SYNDROME, and only Down Syndrome! "Ashley" ages out THIS OCTOBER...that's three months.