Adoption Story Part Two: From The Eyes of A Mom and Her Two Sons

Vera Ramos Dinsmore

The year was 1998.

Here I was, feeling like I owned the world, after all, I had my two healthy, loving boys but at the same time, I carried this “dread feeling” of loss. Maybe because death has been present in my life ever since I was 3 when I lost my mother.

Nevertheless, life was going on and life going well. Rodrigo was in college and Marcello was finishing his senior year of High school. Marcello was well-known by all of his classmates and the community around him. A faithful and devoted Christian. A two-time All-American high school soccer player who was awarded a scholarship to play at UNC-Charlotte in the fall.

One day, I was driving home when I heard on my car radio a story of someone receiving a huge chunk of money for the death of a child.

My thought was...

“Oh, it would burn my hands if I ever got some money for the same reason”.

On graduation day . . . June 6, 1998, my son Marcello approached me in the living room and said "Mom, I am going to Geoff’s house to meet some friends to celebrate our graduation and swing by a friend's house after to drop off some prom pictures."

As he was leaving. I looked at him. . . . wanted to give him a hug. . . but something stopped me from doing it.

That was the last time I saw my son alive.

I watched him slowly get into his car and wave tchau (bye) to me as he drove away. That night, I was stripped from every part of my body including my burning skin with excruciating pain seeing my precious baby boy. . . eyes opened, cold to the touch, and lifeless. My first reaction was ripping all of my clothes as I mourned over my lifeless boy. A dear friend wrapped a robe around me. A drunk driver killed my precious baby boy the morning after high school graduation.

Before this. . . I had never read the Bible. Two years later when I surrendered to God I discovered the Israelites tore their clothes off with pain when a loved one died (Gen 37:34, Nm 14:1-9, 1 Sm 4:10-11).

Genesis 37: 33-34

He recognized it and said, “It is my son’s robe! Some ferocious animal has devoured him. Joseph has surely been torn to pieces.” Then Jacob tore his clothes, put on sackcloth and mourned for his son many days.

For 2 consistent years, Marcello would ask me when I would adopt a little girl. I talked about adoption for many years but always felt content. What more could I ask for? I had my two healthy boys. That was all I needed.

Two weeks prior to Marcello’s death, he asked me again when I was going to adopt a little girl as he knew I have talked about it for years and had never done anything about it.

The next year after his death featured mourning. There were no Christmas, Easter, or birthdays as they all meant nothing. My mind could not comprehend why the world had to keep spinning when life didn't really exist for me anymore.

That next year, I decided to follow Marcello's wish. . .

I will foster a child. A child in their teenage years, maybe 13 or 14 years old?

Months went by and I received no calls. No voicemails.

Until one night. . .

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December 26, 2000, The night of Marcello's birthday . . . I received a call that changed my life forever.