I Love Lucy

I Love Lucy

“Lucy, I’m Home!”

 

October, 1941;

Lucille Ball entered the hearts and homes

of Millions of American men and Women.

The first thing I ever heard her say was:

“I’m not funny, I’m brave.”

 

November, 2011;

Lucy Grace enters the heart and home of my family.

Eleven weeks after the day of her birth

She became my first foster sister.

It would be almost a year before I’d hear her speak.

 

“I’m not funny, I’m brave.”

Brave you are, Lucy Grace.

I can imagine your past.

You held everything you own in your one-inch palms; a bottle containing only courage and a

tattered blanket serving as your only sense of security. You made no noise as your biological mother

tried her hardest to rid herself of you

by making your heart rate match your affect;

flat line.

 

“I’m not funny, I’m brave.”

Brave you are, Lucy Grace.

I can imagine your first victory.

You only cried once when they came and got you.

You held the same bottle and blanket

When they loaded you into the white van

For the very first time.

 

“I’m not funny, I’m brave.”

Brave you are, Lucy Grace.

I can imagine your fear.

The only time you ever cried with us

Was when your nightmare returned.

When they loaded you into the same van

That they brought you in

And delivered you back to the woman

They were saving you from in the first place.

 

“I’m not funny…”
Like some kind of a sick joke

the system declares you’re worth the risk.

“I’m not funny…”

You’re worth another chance

for the woman who gave birth to you.

 

“I’m not funny…”

You’re worth another chance

For the woman who wanted you dead.

“I’m not funny…”

The system won’t listen to you

because you can’t speak.

“I’m not funny…”

They hear the sound

of dollars saved on court fees.

“I’m not funny…”
They hear the sound

of hours saved on paperwork.

“I’m not funny…”

But they do not hear you.

 

“I’m brave.”

Brave you are Lucy Grace,

You will make it through.

You have to make it through.

 

“I’m not funny, I’m brave.”

After weeks and weeks of suffering and sorrow

Associated with losing a loved one,

Joy was born once again in our household

when the van brought Lucy Grace home once more.

 

“I’m not funny, I’m brave.”

Upon your return,

we were privileged to watch you grow

until you were both funny and brave;

and now you’re ours forever.

Upon the rap of the judges gavel

declaring you my sister,

my heart cried out to you,

Lucy, You’re Home. 

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