Uncovering Pain In Ukraine

Last night was a tender night with Alex. 

It started with me talking to him about school work and how I am on his team. If things are too hard and he's not getting it, he needs to let me know. I will go in and talk with his teacher. (This after tears when I was quizzing him on his vocabulary-words he supposedly studied all week but apparently thought he'd get by osmosis?) Anyway, it was more of a pep talk-that he can do this work-needs to try harder and that it would be better to try and catch up in sixth grade then 7th. Nothing too traumatic, no tears were shed. 

Then I asked if there was anything he wanted to talk to me about. He mentioned a hard paper he has in school about geography and we talked about how "I don't understand" might not be enough information for his teacher. Maybe he needs to say, "I have never studied this information, I need help in how to find it?"  and if that doesn't work to bring it home and I will help him with it. Really it was a "up" talk. He really is doing well and trying to study but his idea of studying is just getting through it. It's going to take effort and concentration to grasp vocabulary this year.

I then asked if there was anything else he'd like to talk about? (As I always feel our talks are a little one sided!)

Yes. People pick on me.

Who picks on you?

Everyone.

Who picks on you the most?

You do.

Oh, that is probably true. Just that night he had made a statement about the show we were watching:

This awesome show.

I asked if he had watched the show before? 

No. 

Then how do you know it's an awesome show? 

We talked about communicating, that he should have said "I think this will be an awesome show." We had the same conversation just hours prior when the phone went dead while I was talking with my sister. It was weird. I was hollering, "Did anyone pick up the phone?" and Alex who was sitting in the room with me the whole time announced that Rylee did. Which is utter speculation on his part. We talked about how he cannot make statements like that. It's one thing to THINK that Rylee did it but he doesn't know it for a fact so he can't just proclaim it.

Anyway, back to my picking on him-which apparently I do all the time.

We talked about how I do correct him....a lot. 

But not because I want to be mean or pick on him but because I love him. That I don't want people to make fun of him or how he talks or his manners. Who's going to correct him and help his if his mother doesn't?  (We had a milk-mustache lesson at dinner that night. Why he thinks it's okay to have milk dripping from his upper lip through the entire dinner is beyond me-but I have to remember, no one has ever taught him to wipe his mouth or drink so milk doesn't slosh all over his face.) That I'm trying to help him.  That maybe instead of feeling picked on, he can just feel loved? "My mom loves me so much she's trying to help me." He agreed that he would try that and he agreed that he would rather I correct him then people laugh or make fun of him. 

I did tell him about how I think it must be hard to be corrected all the time and about how well he takes correction and his eyes watered just a tad.

We came up with secret signals for good day, okay day and bad day. Which if you saw them you would know they are not very secretive. We had some last year too-for days he just needed to come home and be hugged and cry. He told me he doesn't want to tell me when he has a bad day because then I will ask about his feelings.

We talked about talking about feelings and how I know in Ukraine that men don't talk about how they feel inside but here in America they do. (I can tell him this right? Some guys DO talk about their feelings.) I told him how he needs to leave that tough Ukraine man that won't talk about how he feels in Ukraine. He told me he will leave everything in Ukraine. How I ask? He will just stop thinking about it. I told him he can't do that. He can't forget Ivan and Sasha. That Ukraine is a part of him and it's okay. He told me he can never forget his punishments. See? I know. Ukraine is a part of you but if I could, I would take all the hurtful memories so they wouldn't haunt him anymore and then the he started sharing stories of his past....

He talked about how the teachers were much nicer to the children with parents at the orphanage. In his orphanage it was really more like a boarding school for children with speech disabilities. 3/4's of the kids had parents and would go home to their families on the weekends. He claimed the teachers were much nicer to these kids because they needed the money from their parents.

Then he talked about how one night only he and Sasha were there-out of the seventeen boys in his room. Everyone else had gone home with family and how he and Sasha felt so "bored" and sad but the word he really meant was lonely.

Then he started sharing stuff about his mom. He shared that the police came at six am and woke him up. ( I had heard this before) but then he went on about how his mom tried to hit the policemen with a glass and yelled that they could not take him. The police asked Alex if he wanted to go with them or stay with this alcoholic mother. (Alex has such a look of disgust on his face-I'm sure he was living in filth at the time.) He chose to go with them. He had been hit so often by his mom that at around age five or six he had to make the heart wrenching decision to leave his mother. 

He said she came to visit him once in the baby orphanage but then he was moved and she didn't know where he was. I asked if he wanted her to get him out of the orphanage. He said he wanted a mom but a kind mom-not a mom that hit him all the time and was drunk all the time.

Then he told me about witnessing his fathers death. I asked if I could share it on my blog and he would rather I don't so out of respect for him I won't. 

Sufficient to say, he has been through a lot in his short little life. He was extremely upset that he didn't go to hid Dad's graveside-his mother wouldn't let him. He claims she didn't go either.

Afterward, all I could do was hold him and hug him and tell him it was not his fault. I told him maybe we could do something about it right now? He sat up quickly and looked me right in the eye and proclaimed, "We are not going to Ukraine to see my Dad's grave! " with such authority & conviction-like that was preposterous! Ridiculous! I know that, I said. But maybe we could get Ivan to take a picture of it? Or maybe you could draw a picture of all the happy things you remember with your Dad and we could get a  nice box and we'll put his Dad's name on it and sort of have a little funeral service here in America for his Dad? You could tell he thought that was crazy.

We talked about how we could do some research and perhaps do his Ukraine dad's temple work?  That maybe his Ukraine dad is looking over him from heaven? Maybe it was his Ukraine dad that whispered to me that Alex needed a mom?  He liked those ideas and it helped the sobbing and gave him something to think about but he was still so very sad.

I got him somewhat calmed down and tucked into bed. We'd been talking for over an hour. He did pray that he would not feel so sad about his dad and in the next breath prayed that his dad was safe and warm-which is referring to James at work. I have never heard Alex pray while James is gone without him praying that James is safe and warm-even if it's the dead of summer! 

I gave him about ten minutes and went back in. I thought I had something that would defiantly cheer him up. Earlier that day he had found $10 in his backpack that he claimed was not his. Oh, yes. He is working on honesty!! I had text everyone asking if anyone had used Alex's backpack and could  have left money in it. No one claimed it so I went in and told him that because he was so honest and no one claimed this money, he can keep it! I was sure this would put a smile on his face. But no. He just nodded and was still so sad so I resorted to the only thing I had left. "Do you want to sleep with me?" Yes, and he bounded out of bed and crawled in on James' side-he was snuggling with the a little stuffed animal like he was five years old and held my hand as he fell to sleep.

Such hurt. Such sadness at such a young age. The disgust he has for his mother and alcohol is severe. And to have to CHOOSE to leave your mother at such a young age. The sorrow he has over his dad's death and the fault he feels. It breaks my heart. What a brave boy. I told him as much as I tried to comfort him last night. My brave little man.

So, I sent an email to Ivan hoping for a legal name, birth and death dates and city of birth but I'm not even sure Ivan has this information-it was his step father/mothers boyfriend (not sure they actually ever married-that would explain why the other fathers name is on the birth certificate?).  I also asked if he knew anyone that might have a picture of Alex's Dad. I feel like I'm looking for a needle in a haystack. Any suggestions?? 

Today Alex is a little somber. We looked through his Ukraine papers.....again. In hopes of finding something more but we've got nothing. I could have sworn that Ivan told me the name of his Dad and I wrote it down somewhere but I can't find it. I couldn't even say his name so there is no chance I'd be able to retrieve it out of the cobwebs of my mind.