The first month of 1962, we reunited our little family and settled in Portland, Oregon. At about age two, Stephen’s vocabulary, normal for his age, dropped down to two words, ‘hot” and “hi.” Puzzled I sought help and found it at the University of Oregon, Early Childhood Development Department. They suggested we choose one word for him to say in response to anything. In other words, if he wanted a cup of milk he first had to say “Mama” then he’d get what he requested. Turns out a cookie brought the best results and soon he caught on that saying the word of the day—or week—brought him what he wanted and his vocabulary picked up dramatically from there.
In the meantime, I found work as a temp and worked in various companies all around Portland. Larry tried but didn’t fare so well. It worked out well the time we spent in Portland to have Larry’s mom watch the kids for us. They enjoyed their time with Grandma and Grandpa.
We heard there were job possibilities in Seattle, so drove up there. He got on at Boeing and soon, pulling our turtle shell behind us we moved to the Seattle area.
At each place I religiously found a doctor to keep tabs on me every six months. My health continued to improve and no further problems developed. I considered myself healed by God after about two years and took care of my responsibilities like any normal young mother.
My parents came up in 1964 for the World’s Fair in Seattle. The Space Needle was then and still is a great experience. But by now, Laurie was two and Stephen four and I wanted another child. Adoption presented an answer so we looked into it. They informed us that a cancer patient wasn’t considered in remission for five years following treatments. They also informed us that adoption was not an option until I was cancer free for five years.
My heart ached, my mind reeled and I felt upset, angry and forlorn all at once. I had this deep-seated need to hold another baby so decided to try taking in foster babies. Larry and I applied and were accepted but they admonished us, “These children will be in your home until they are adopted but you cannot adopt them.” Period. End of sentence. With no alternative at hand we accepted their terms and soon I had a baby girl in my arms.
Little Louise didn’t stay long, about six weeks, then Dougie came. We had him three months because he was of mixed race: Caucasian, Chinese and African-American. His laid back temperament made him a happy baby from the start. He was chubby, beautiful and adorable. I wanted to adopt him more than I can express but it was prohibited. He stayed longer than the others and I enjoyed every moment. Letting him go made my heart ache but I experienced joy that he went to a family that wanted him. Who wouldn’t once they knew this delightful child?
Then we received Timmy but the kids and I contracted strep throat not too long after his arrival and had to let him go to someone else. That hurt but it hurt even more when the agency said they didn’t want to place any more babies with us. Pressed for a reason they said, “We believe that Mr. Luke’s heart isn’t into this and we feel he’s being uncooperative.”
But God had given me two dear, sweet children and that was enough. In the years ahead God’s wisdom prove to be better than my wishes.
