Denise Grover Swank
Denise Grover Swank

Child of Mine

Those of you familiar with me know that I have three internationally adopted children. Honestly, I rarely think of them as adopted. I have three biological children as well (yes, SIX kids) and when they are all together, or not, they are just my kids. Period.

And if you want to tick me off, just tell me something asinine like “blood is thicker than water” or “blood needs to stick together.”

In our house, the tie that binds is love.

My eight-year-old daughter Jenna was baptized today. Our church has a short service before Sunday school and parents are given the opportunity to put together a slide show of the child.  My plate is full right now. As in, I’m behind. So I briefly considered handing off the slide show project to my fourteen-year-daughter. Julia loves this sort of thing, but as I thought about it, the first slides popped into my head and I knew that I couldn’t pass this off.  The ideas I had were too personal. This slide show, in essence, is my gift to Jenna.

It took longer than I expected, as most things with me do, but I finished it in plenty of time–about 11 pm on Saturday night. (That’s early for me.) When I was done, I think I’d gone through a box of tissues.  But I’d also created a thing of beauty, a visual representation of my love for the child born of my heart. Because if one thing is certain, Jenna will never doubt my love for her.

Categories: Writing
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