...Another car bomb exploded in Baghdad killing... *click* ...witnesses say the shooter was a student of the school, but his motive is still unknown... *click* ...body was discovered saturday morning near a playground... *click* ...the Russian invasion of Georgia... *click* ...In other news...
We sat on the bench outside the door. We joked, we teased and giggled, the nervous laughter hid the insecurities we were all afraid to admit. There is a strange sort of reality slap you get while standing out side a courtroom, no matter why your there or who's on trial.
There was a lot of people there, and they all seemed to know each other, all twenty something of them. This doesn't help your nerves but it occupies your mind. Am I in the right place? You check your paper, better check it again. The way you look at your watch out of habit, but don't know what time it is, so you look again. I hate that.
We couldn't find our name on the docket list, check the paper, don't look at your watch. What time is it, crap. Better go check with the clerk. The door rattled and the bolt slapped loadly against the steal, yeah yeah so I flinched, I was in a war.
It's always a good sign when someone who went to check on something, and has been gone way too long, so long that you wish you had been the one to go, comes back.... smiling.
"...names are withheld and not listed on the docket when it's an adoption, thats why there are so many that say confidential..."
There were over thirty-something people there in court this morning for adoption proceeding's, there was the three of us, another very nice couple with a cute baby and ALL the rest were there to celebrate and witness the adoption of one child. When I took my Rites of Passage class at Cherry Hill Seminary I learned that people acknowledge a loss for more than a gain. So much more goes into a funeral than a birth. I've seen more people show up for a funeral than a birth, this morning I saw so many assemble just for an adoption hearing. Just to hear the judges gavel fall. They gave the mother bouquets of flowers.
Seemed like four generations in the mix. Every woman a proud Grandma or maybe and Aunt. Every man wore that grin we have when we know we're the shit. Seemed to be too many of them to be one family. Maybe a congregation or something. Complete with a squad of camera crazy woman toting some serious hardware. My eyes still hurt from the flashes.
Conjunctio is about meeting, interaction and combining. I was there taking yet another step in the long process of adopting my fourteen year old step daughter. Conjunctio. Why go through all that hassle for four more years?
Freemasonry teaches that a gavel is an operative tool used to break off the rough pieces of stone, to better fit the builders use. But we as Father and Daughter use it for the noble and glorious purpose of divesting our hearts, minds and consciousness of the term "STEP".
Because parenthood doesn't stop at eighteen, ask mine.