Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Katy's Family Forest, Part 3

The months following Logan's birth and death are a bit of a blur. I believe that his calling hours and funeral were the first week in July… and then 4th of July weekend I went to Internationals for Bible Quizzing in northern California.

As I mentioned before, I spent countless hours studying for this event. It was my sixth and final year in quizzing, both at the local level and on my district's International team, and I wanted to do well so much that I ached for it. To explain all of the emotion and history behind that week would be a book in itself, so you'll have to get the short version and just take my word for the rest. It was something I wanted more than just about anything else I can remember. And at the end of the week, my prayer was answered—but in a different way than I had hoped. Our team took first, which was just an amazing victory! I personally, though, did not do well at all, and had a couple of notable failures that really stung. It makes sense, looking back—the week-long competition ENDED less than two weeks after Logan died. It was a lot to ask of a 17-year-old girl. But I couldn't see that then. I was thrilled to have been part of the team, and so happy for my friends who had done well, but just starting to feel like I was falling apart.

I spent that last night at Internationals up all night, saying goodbye to my friends, most of whom I would never see again. There were some I had seen each of my six years there, and others who I had just met that week. And there was one in particular… a boy… such a cute boy… who had stolen my heart. I'd known him for several years, but knew that I was not likely to ever see him again (He lived in another state.), and I didn't want to say goodbye… so we stayed up until about 4 AM, when he went to go back to his room and pack for the trip home. (OK, I feel the need to clarify here that we were at a Bible Quizzing competition. Yes, we were up all night, but in a group setting—totally G-rated here. :-) )

And so began my birthday—yep, the day that I said goodbye to my friends, the day after one of the best and worst days of my life thus far, the day that I embarked on a family vacation with my parents without ever having gone to bed the night before... was also my 18th birthday.

My parents, fortunately, were sensitive enough to know that I could not handle any deep conversation about my seeking my biological roots that day. We were, as I said, leaving directly from the competition to go on a family vacation, first south in California to visit my aunt and uncle, then up to Seattle to visit my brother and his wife (a different brother). So we had a little "happy birthday to me" breakfast at their hotel, and that was it. They let me rest and get myself together a little bit before even bringing it up.

I think at the same time, though, they didn't want me to think that they had forgotten, or that they would go back on their word. So the next day as we sat down to eat, they reaffirmed their willingness to help do whatever they could to help me find my biological parents—whenever I was ready. Here it was… the day that I had been waiting for… the moment had come… So I looked them straight in the eyes and said………………………. "No thanks."

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