Chapter Veronica Brunner

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=125 BGCOLOR="#BFBF00" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="05b467d1dwoxjb.png"> <bR> <div> <B><IMG SRC="275207d0.jpg" border=0 width="800" height="125" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></B></div> <bR> <bR> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=189 style="border-right: 1px solid #CCCCCC;" BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <bR> <bR> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="WovenWord Press"><B>home</B></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id89.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="new from the press/Mother Blessings/Jour"><B>new from the press</B></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id30.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="catalog"><B>catalog</B></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id31.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="how to order this book"><B>how to order</B></A><B> </B><A HREF="id31.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="how to order this book"><B>books</B></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id32.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="who we are"><B>who we are</B></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id33.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="links"><B>links</B></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id34.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="contact"><B>contact </B></A></div> <div> <B>    </B></div> <bR> <div> <B> </B></div> </td> <td valign="top" height=355 width="100%" BGCOLOR="#FFFF99" TEXT="#080000"> <div>               </div> <div>                      </div> <div>      <FONT SIZE="6" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Verdana" ><I><B>c h a p t e r   s a m p l e</B></I></FONT></div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <B>Momther I Love You</B><FONT SIZE="7" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Comic Sans MS" ><B> </B></FONT></div> <div> <B>an adopting family's journey toward wholeness </B></div> <div> <B>                                    by Veronica Brunner</B></div> <bR> <div> <I><B> </B></I></div> <div> <B> <TABLE BORDER="0" CELLPADDING="1" CELLSPACING="1" WIDTH="784" BORDERCOLORLIGHT="#C0C0C0" BORDERCOLORDARK="#808080" FRAME="VOID" RULES="NONE" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" > <tR> <tD VALIGN=TOP HEIGHT= 6833 WIDTH="780"><div> Chapter One</div> <bR> <div> Mom, I’ve decided to love you. I’m going to love this whole family,” Cathie announced in a decisive tone as she emerged from a half-hour of silence in her room. I was at our dining room table, which is close to the long narrow kitchen. Her room was across the hall behind the kitchen. She walked to the far end of the kitchen to make her announcement. We were all there. At the age of eight she was freeing herself from her abusive and neglectful birth parents. It had been four years and three months since she had first walked through our front door as a foster child. My husband, Brian, and I had adopted Cathie and her biological brother, Tommy, along with a foster brother, Chris, two years earlier. Cathie had waited all this time for her birth parents to return; keeping herself distant, isolated, and starved for affection. Since they did not return, she had finally decided to accept our family as hers.</div> <div> Brian quietly observed the burst of emotion and promise of love. “This I’ve got to see,” he said as he continued to prepare one of his usual breakfasts of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and coffee. Tommy and Chris just looked at her and smiled. I assured Brian that I believed she knew what she was saying. It was such a surprise to hear her express these feelings. Cathie meant it. Her decision to love our family was a commitment that she took seriously. The next day she showed this by making a picture. First she printed: “Momther, I love you. you love me.” Then she drew a clock and put the correct time on it. Under the clock was the date. I understood this to mean that she knew this was forever. It was definitely a big occasion, and one that will never be forgotten. She had thought about it a lot. As she handed the drawing to me, she said, “I know you will always love me. You will never leave me like my other mommy and daddy did.” Now she waited for my affirmation.</div> <div> “You are right. Daddy and I will never leave you,” I assured her. I accepted the picture and quietly hugged her. wow! What a giant leap this was for Cathie and our family. Now she wanted to be included in the family and in the hugging. No more standing aloof while Tommy and Chris came for hugs. I thanked God with all my heart.</div> <div> Cathie’s whole attitude changed. Her happy little face beamed everywhere we went. She was no longer negative. Temper tantrums that caused slamming doors, stomping up and down the stairs, or just throwing food or dishes decreased from eight or nine times a day to two or three a week. When asked to help, she was happy to please. Our whole family lightened up and began to blossom.</div> <div> Friends asked us what happened to make such a difference. When I explained her decision to love us, they mirrored my sense of awe exactly—wow!</div> <div> We were now a family. It had seemed like such a long process for Brian and me, but we didn’t mind the struggle now that we finally had what we both wanted most—our own family. It took faith, prayer, and confidence in God’s plan for all of us. Brian was the youngest of fourteen children and I was the seventh in a family of thirteen. We were both raised with the same family values. Our parents believed that children were the greatest of all treasures. The fact that money was scarce helped us to care about each other rather than things. Nothing superseded family. Our parents’ joy and often only entertainment was their children. We were taught to have respect for each other, our church, and our country. We did.</div> <div> When I was just five years old, my much loved and deeply religious mother told me one night after family rosary that it was God’s will for me to become a member of a religious group known as “Sisters.” I remember feeling both disappointed and honored. On the one hand I loved my dolls and wanted to have a family like Mom. On the other hand it seemed so special for God to want me to be like my mother’s three sisters, who were all members of the religious community that my mother was convinced I had been born to join. She told me that I had been her smallest baby and she didn’t think I could ever have children. She had me baptized the day after my birth just in case I was too sickly to live. For my name she chose the name of the foundress of the religious community her sisters had joined. I knew that they were held in high esteem by all of my relatives. It would mean that I would belong to an elite group of holy people.</div> <div> So, thinking that I had no choice of my own, I prayed as my mother told me to become a good sister some day. At fourteen I went to the convent and stayed nearly twenty years. At thirty-three I finally heard a superior say the words I had been waiting to hear all those years: “Sister, you are so unhappy. Why don’t you leave?” We had been instructed at the convent that unless we heard this suggestion from a superior, we could not leave without endangering our eternal life of happiness. In other words, we could go to hell if we left the convent just because we chose to leave. I said to my superior, “I’ve waited all these years to hear someone give me permission to leave. Now, I’ve been here so long, I don’t know how to handle leaving.”</div> <div> She was so wonderful, I couldn’t believe it was true. She told me she knew a good priest with a degree in psychology who could help me. She set up the first appointment for me. Now I was free to do what I wanted instead of what my mother wanted. I just hoped it wasn’t too late to have a family.</div> <div> Most of my brothers and sisters already had families and were well aware of my unhappiness in the convent; when I told them I was leaving, they were all very supportive. They wanted me to be happy, that was all. I was afraid they would be disappointed with my lack of resolve, so it helped me very much to start communicating with them. My sweet mother apologized over and over again for telling me what to do with my life. For a while I was resentful, but after I gave it some thought, I realized she was doing what she thought was right at the time. Once I forgave her, I was free to go on with my dreams.</div> <div> My years in the convent were not wasted by any means. They helped prepare me for the huge task God knew was waiting for me. The first six years of convent life were well spent in practicing self-discipline and prayer, and learning to get along with hundreds of other sisters. Tolerance was a necessity. Then, for fourteen years I was a teacher, dedicated to helping children learn and expand their minds. I spent much of my free time dreaming wistfully about raising my own family, and later discovered that this long wait for a family helped me in important ways. It helped me be patient and understanding, and taught me to keep my priorities straight in times of turmoil. Little problems were just that: little problems.</div> <div> When I left my religious community I felt like a teenager free from parental control for the first time. I had a tremendous amount to learn about independent living, but everything was so exciting to me that I found myself in a state of euphoria most of the time. One of my sisters and brothers-in-law, thirteen hundred miles away, invited me to stay with their family until I found my own place and a job. I was very grateful, and their family was wonderful to me. I was able to get a job teaching at a private school about thirty miles from their home, and I went at this job of teaching primary children with gusto and dedication. Of course, the parents were delighted.</div> <div> After three years of teaching, I was encouraged by the family of one of my students to become a private tutor of religion. This I did and loved. I taught family religion classes for one hour a week for twenty-two families. We had wonderful group celebrations of Passover and first communions. We all enjoyed the community feeling at these classes and services. </div> <div> Brian had a very different preparation for the life we were about to share. After four years in the navy, he found himself taking care of his aging parents. He was a steady, good worker at the local public utility plant, helping to produce electricity. After his father died peacefully in his sleep, he cared for his mother for several more years until she needed constant care in a nursing home. Then he began to wonder if he was ever going to have his own family. Being a shy homebody, he was not likely to easily meet a partner. His social life consisted mostly of family gatherings, fishing, and vacationing with a best buddy once in a while.</div> <div> Both of us were praying to meet good partners. I had already made the mistake of one very short bad marriage, which was annulled by my church. This made me more careful about my choice of men. I now knew that I would need a partner who had been raised with the same family values I had been. Our prayers were answered when I was inspired to call the local senior center to ask if anyone knew a senior woman in need of a live-in companion.</div> <div> Sometimes things happen that go beyond coincidence. I will always believe that someone in heaven placed me in a house right across the street from Brian, where an eighty-eight year old woman, looking for someone like me, had called the senior center the same day I did. I believe that a very dear young man, who died of cystic fibrosis shortly before I found this place, is the saint in heaven who helped me. He knew my hopes and dreams.</div> <div> For three months I worked and dated several different men. After a couple of heart breaks, the lovely senior lady I was helping gave me her opinion: “None of the men you have been seeing are worthy of you. The one you ought to be dating is right over there.” She pointed across the street to a man in his back yard hanging out his laundry. He was not very romantic looking. He never seemed to do anything except go to work and visit with a lady who came once in a while. So I asked her why she thought he would be so good for me. She said that he was unusually good to his mother, and relayed a story his mother had told her: One day she had called him at work and cried because she was so lonely. He told her not to feel lonely because God was always with her. Wow! This just might be Mr. Right for me. I took a second look across the street. He lived in a simple house with a plain lawn, nothing fancy. He was always working and smiling. Could the man of my dreams be this close? How could I meet him?</div> <div> Since shyness is not one of my problems, I chose to take the practical approach: I would ask him for help. My church supported the relocation of Vietnamese families, and I had volunteered to purchase some used furniture for them. I needed a truck to get it to their apartment—Brian had a truck. So one day, when I saw him outside with the lady who visited him, I went across the street, introduced myself, and asked if he could give me some assistance with the furniture project. The lady introduced herself as his sister and him as Brian. I sensed that he was too shy to say very much, but he wanted to meet me. He was happy to help. Once the job was complete he went on with his life as if nothing had happened.</div> <div> Challenges get my creative juices flowing, and I often encourage that process by reading self-help books. At that time my book of choice was Your Erroneous Zones, by Dr. Wayne W. Dyer. He explained that sometimes we allow ourselves to be frustrated unnecessarily by ridiculous societal mores. I realized this was exactly what I was doing by waiting for Brian to call me. I could just as easily call him, so I did. When I asked if he were interested in dating, he answered, “Yes, yes, yes!”</div> <div> We decided our first date would be to go fishing at a nearby lake, where he and one of his sisters and brothers-in-law were members. As it turned out, I felt so comfortable with him it almost scared me. His family was so similar to mine that I immediately felt at home with them, and although I was thirteen hundred miles from my own home, it no longer seemed like it. And so, after seven months of fishing, eating out, going to movies, and hiking, we agreed that we were much happier now than we had ever been. We got married. The community of families and Bible Study groups that I taught put on our wedding, and it took place in the very same backyard where my friend with cystic fibrosis had lived, died, and had his funeral. It all felt so right that I knew my friend in heaven had inspired us. I was at peace and very grateful!</div> <div> Brian and I had a honeymoon of fishing and hiking in the mountains, and then we returned to the excitement of buying our own home. We chose a brick ranch style with a cool basement for quiet sleeping when Brian had to work the third shift at his plant. We were very excited to have our own home and life together. We purchased furniture and trimmed our hedges and landscaped with enthusiasm. What happiness!</div> <div> Everything was going well—maybe we would be able to have children, even though I was forty and Brian was forty-five. A year later, after a D and C, our doctor informed us that I would need surgery and even then I might not be able to conceive and carry a child. I remembered my mother telling me that she didn’t think I would live through childbirth, and decided God had different plans for me. Brian agreed that he would rather adopt than take a chance on surgery. Besides, if God chose for me to get pregnant, I would. It was up to God now. We were at peace.</div> <bR> <div> My Sources 0f Strength and Courage</div> <bR> <div> My purposes in writing this book are to encourage other parents to never give up their dreams of having a family, and to help needy children get a chance at life. I am therefore going to include, at the end of each chapter, some of the sources I drew upon for the spiritual strength to keep going. In addition I will list some favorite book, music, and website resources, as well as some tips of my own for adoptive parents.</div> <div> The first resource I would like to mention is my family—particularly my parents. They gave me the gifts of basic inner courage and tenacity. My mother’s example of always putting God first showed her deep faith. When I was a child, my mother’s family would come to visit about once a month. They talked energetically about what was going on in the world concerning God and the Church. My father did not enter into these conversations. He seemed uninterested, but I noticed that as a matter of personal character he never gave up on himself or us, no matter what. He was a strong authoritarian figure in my life. When I saw the movie The Ten Commandments, and heard the Egyptian pharaoh say, “So let it be written, so let it be done,” I thought of my father. The sense of absolute unquestioning authority was the same.</div> <div> After leaving the convent, in my need to integrate the two principles of having faith in and not questioning God, I began a long search. I read many books, attended dozens of religious seminars, and audited dozens more theology classes at the University of Notre Dame, Indiana. None of them answered my quest, but they all helped me become aware of the diversity of religious faiths, along with the common human need for God. As a child, I had always thought of God as a combination of my parents. When I prayed, I talked to God as if I were having a conversation with them. But this did not satisfy me. I felt an emptiness that left me lacking the peace I wanted so much. Then one day I saw an ad in the paper or church bulletin for a lecture on “peace” by a priest who had gone to India to study Eastern forms of meditation. I went and found the answer to my many years of searching. His lecture set my mind free from its narrow interpretation of scripture and philosophy of life.</div> <div> I met with him after the lecture and asked if he had time to become my spiritual director. He did. We set up a weekly schedule for hiking in the nearby hills for one hour at a time. He taught me Zen meditation. I sat in a chair in my living room each day for twenty-five minutes with the simple task of repeating over and over: “I am Veronica. I am breathing.” Then, in silence, I would feel old anxieties leave my consciousness.</div> <div> I was physically exhausted from the relief of letting go of personal baggage, but it was summer break from school, so I could get extra sleep. For ten weeks before fall school began, I meditated, read scripture, rested, and went for weekly spiritual direction. By the time I made my yearly lesson plans for religion classes, I felt like a whole new person. When I shared the new insights with my student families they concurred with the refreshing consciousness I was experiencing: God was not limited to any one belief. We could all experience love and goodness everywhere just as we had learned as children.</div> <div> I was now experiencing so much peace, and the families I taught so much joy, that I knew something my spiritual director told me was true: “The only real gift we can give someone is that of our own inner peace.” It seemed clear to me that if I were to share peace with others I would need to meditate daily the rest of my life. I found that any day I skipped meditation I felt a lack of peace, and would be irritable and easily confused. I needed the daily centering, and found that with it I also experienced freedom from guilt. Previous to practicing Zen meditation I felt guilty for every small infraction, such as becoming impatient or having unkind thoughts. With this new thinking I learned that all actions have a particular karma or simple cause and effect. They are not necessarily bad or good. They just are. I learned to say “so what” to former problems, and to go on with life in peace. I could think more clearly and smile so much more easily. The joy and humor of life were evident to me. I became aware of God’s presence everywhere. My mother had always been conscious of God coming first in life—now I owned this same faith. I felt well grounded. I can’t emphasize too much the importance of Zen meditation in my life. At the same time, I can easily imagine that other forms of meditation may be equally valuable for other individuals. Joseph Campbell has told us that we each need to find our own bliss and go with it, and I have certainly found this to be true.</div> <bR> <div> Tips For Adoptive Parents</div> <bR> <div> *Wanting a family very much is the key to accepting problem children.</div> <div> *Get as much preparation as possible to understand what it would be like to be an abandoned young child (see books by Dave Pelzer in the following section).</div> <bR> <div> Books, Music, and Websites</div> <bR> <div> * Suzuki and Shunryu. Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind. New York: Weatherhill Publisher, 1970.</div> <div> * Campbell, Joseph and Bill Moyers. Printouts of a Public Affairs Television series: The Hero’s Adventure, The Message Of the Myth, The First Storytellers, Sacrifice and Bliss, Love and the Goddess, Masks Of Eternity. Executive Producers: Joan Konner and Alvin H. Perlmutter. Aired 1988. Copies obtainable from Doubleday, P.O. Box 5071 DesPlaines, Illinois 60017.</div> <div> * Dyer, Dr. Wayne W. Your Erroneous Zones. New York: Avon, 1976. This book freed me from ridiculous social mores. It is a treasure for anyone suffering from excessive guilt and/or worries.</div> <div> * Pelzer, Dave. A Child Called “It”. Deerfield Beach, FL: Health Communications, Inc., 1995.</div> <div> * Pelzer, Dave. The Lost Boy. Deerfield Beach, FL: Health Communications, Inc., 1997.</div> <div> * Pelzer, Dave. A Man Named Dave. New York: Penguin, Putnam Inc., Plume Publisher, 1999.</div> <div> * Foster Parent Associations Network—Community members share resources and search tips for those interested in foster parenting in the U.S.: <A HREF="http://www.fosterparents.com/states3" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://www.fosterparents.com/states3">http://www.fosterparents.com/states3/</A></div> <div> * Foster Parents Resources—Join this network of foster parents for access to information, resources and support. Includes chat room and message board: http://www.fostercare.org/links/fplinks.htm </div> </tD> </tR> </TABLE></B></div> <bR> <div> <B>                      ______________________________________________________________</B></div> <bR> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id137.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Chapter Veronica Brunner"><B>sample book chapter</B></A></div> <bR> <div> <A HREF="id30.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="catalog"><B>catalog</B></A></div> <div> <B>                  </B></div> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" ><B>                                         </B></FONT><FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#CCFF99" FACE="Arial" ><B> </B></FONT><A HREF="id31.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="how to order this book"><B>How to Order this Book</B></A><B> </B></div> <bR> <div> <B>Momther I Love You </B></div> <div> <I><B>an adopting family's journey toward wholeness</B></I><B> </B></div> <div> <B>Veronica Brunner </B></div> <div> <B>171 pgs.  $12.00  paperback  ISBN: 0967842824</B></div> <bR> <div> <B> </B></div> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>