Dark, wooden, polished chairs lined neatly shining in the sunlight streaming through the enormous dusty windows. In front of the audience of chairs is a barrier, made from the same wood with a swinging door so all those that are summoned can pass through. Two large tables with the now familiar chairs are positioned facing a tall desk overlooking the congregation with a witness stand. Everything is made of this dark wood, cold against the skin despite the sun shining in the summertime out the window.
Positioned quietly at one of the tables sit two women, both average height, dark hair, dressed simplistically and neatly for what is about to unfold in front of us. One would assume they were sisters, I would have, had I not known they have been working through the agency together for years. Positioned high above us dressed in his traditional black garments sits an older man, wise in his years, glasses perched on his nose. This man, though I do not know his name is the man who is to give me my future. With his voice he calls the older of the two women to the stand. All I know how to do at this point is sit, sit frozen to a chair with anxiety and excitement for I know what is about to come. I’ve waited almost eight years for this moment.
With each step I take I come closer to this strange house that is to be my new home, new family, new life. I grip my brown Looney Tunes doll, the only that is familiar to me, closer to my chest. My little sister is in the arms of a young, 30 year old, dark haired woman who smells faintly of vanilla. I do not know what to expect and my young brain is buzzing with questions; will they love me? What happened to Mommy? Why are we here? My infant counterpart will not understand, she can barely talk, so my mind wanders for the two of us. Lost in my thoughts I have not noticed that we already inside the house. I am facing a middle aged dark haired woman, my new mother.
“State and spell the name for the child reflecting the new changes to be made”, said the man’s deep voice as I am snapped back to present day.
This is it, I thought, my new name. The sunlight caught the face of my mother and she smiled as she began to spell with anticipation. Anticipation for giving me the only thing left for her to give me, her last name. The chair is no longer cold; it’s burning with my eagerness to hug the woman who has shown me nothing but compassion, and to thank the woman who was there with me since the accident. The tiny girl who clung to her doll for comfort and support is now a preteen taking on a new identity and standing tall. Leaving the dark courtroom and the antique courthouse behind, she beams brighter that the sunlight at her new and familiar mother.
Life as we THINK we know it 