March 20006

It’s been over a month since I’ve talked to my oldest son. Texts, messages, and chats go unanswered. His dad’s birthday has come and gone. Crickets.

Life has rarely been easy parenting Luka. We adopted him from an orphanage in Russia when he was 32 months old. The only thing we knew about his birth mother was that she was a registered alcoholic. He was a loving and sweet boy.

One of his elementary teachers noted about him, that although school was hard for him, he was the most determined and hard-working kid in her class. She was sure that that tenacity would pay off for him in the future. Continue reading →