Almost twenty years ago now my sister made a difficult decision. It wasn't difficult in a moment but in a lifetime. She was pregnant with a baby boy and a gold ring circled her head. Whenever I think I've dived to the depths of her decision I find there is so much more water below me. To the center of the earth this well was dug. I see the weird deep sea creatures swimming at the great rift. The pressure is heavy and soul-crushing.
Her body was still wet with love, salty. No dramatic score swelled when it should. She was silent in her strength and in her decision. For nine months she built a bond that would be stymied but never eradicated. I can still see the love in the reflection of her watery brown eyes. It will never leave. I think I had mistaken it for fear but I was young.
Now we live in that reflection. The image of life has flipped in light of her magnanimous gift, a gift she physically wrapped. It's given me new perspective. Life can't be the same after something like that.
I will never understand the breadth of her love in this decision. So much of everyday of my life has been absent of decisions. Life has happened without me reaching for the rudder. With my own son being formed (as we are speaking) I see now the units that that love was and is measured in. "Your son is alive as is hope! You gave me hope when you chose adoption even if it hurt(s). Hope is something that benefits us all. It's what we breathe really. You are still the mother of the heart of the world, my sister."
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