A high school classmate posted on FB that today is the sixth anniversary of her husband losing to cancer.  Her post indicated good memories and I commented and hope that she is able to look up through the sadness.  That was about two hours ago and triggered thoughts that have led to this blog.
   January is a tough month for me, other things contribute but the anticipation of the eleventh anniversary of Cindy's death on Friday has the effect it would have on any other parent.  Of course I get sad and think of all the "what if'" and for me there will always be the unanswered question of "did Agent Orange...".
   In that sadness there is always the knowledge of how she affected the people that knew her and of her.
   When she was a baby, I was feeding her in the middle of the night and noticed her fingernails as she held my finger.  Being of simple mind and a new Father, I took off her booty's and examined her toenails.  I then sat there with tears running down my face as I realized I would be a Father and hopefully a Daddy/Dad the rest of my life.
   Cindy's Mother couldn't deal with the disabilities and left.  My own Mom & Dad accepted Cindy into their home and treated her as their own while I struggled to "put my life back together".  While with Mom & Dad, Cindy came in contact with my siblings, some of my cousins, uncles and so many others at "schools", clinics, social service agencies and more.  Eventually she moved to Duluth to a home for children with special needs.  While there she met the woman who was to be her Mom.
   After our marriage, Carol adopted Cindy to make formal and legal the role she'd already made her own.  As Cindy's parents we fought many, many battles for her care.  I word it, "we won all the (legal) battles and lost the war".  As we fought for care against the supposed experts and "budgetary decisions" we received a lot of acclaim from caregivers and observers while we also created resentment among the "Professionals".   Eventually we were forced to make a decision of one of us having to fore go one income and  the life and home we'd built for ourselves and sons and have Cindy full time at home or "surrender parental rights".  We made the decision as parents of three children.  Cindy moved into a home with some very, very special people (who eventually adopted her) and her many special needs siblings.
   Cause was never definitively determined for Cindy's conditions.  I was told she would not live to reach her fifth birthday.  She died almost three months after her thirty-first birthday.  During that time she altered and affected many lives.  Obviously she changed my, her Mother(s), her Mom's (clarification: for me, Cindy will always have only one Mom regardless of what her last adopted female parent called herself), all six of her GrandParents, my siblings and their children.  I've no doubt that she influenced those who treated and cared for her as their professional duties and the families of the other special need children that came in contact with her.
   In my mind Cindy will remain the baby and little girl she was prior to her last adoption. ( Carol and I were not allowed to see or visit her in "her family".  I was asked and gave blood one time, we attended a "Graduation Party" and her funeral.)  That image is what I have/had in mind when I expressed my hopes for my classmate today.  I hope she can remember the images that are parallel to the time I took Cindy's hand to feel a tree, her laughter and pleasure of watching "Troubles" the dog, her smiles at and brought by her brothers and the indelible feelings that I had as I watched Cindy and her Mom interact.
   This writing is part of what Cindy gave me.  The ability and desire to share.  My thoughts, feelings and myself (through volunteering and other actions) are given to others because a baby taught me love that has no ending.