Touching and beautiful.

(((((Mercury)))))

Thank you very much.

Peace and best wishes.

Xi

On 9 nov, 22:32, "Mercury.Sailor" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
> I posted this song for one very special reason....
>
>  *Time of my Life* was inspired and written because of a little Angel
> he and his wife adopted from Beijing!! Its very special to me, I hope
> you enjoy.
>
> FULL CIRCLE
>
>  It was late March of 2003 and my wife and I were sitting in a tourist
> bus with three other families on a crowded street in Beijing, China.
> We had all just climbed the Great Wall together and had stopped to buy
> hats and t-shirts from street vendors on our return back into the
> city. Yolanda (my wife) and I saw these cheesy little hats that said
> "Beijing Olympics 2008". We bought them and immediately added them to
> our fashion ensemble, along with our cargo pants, t-shirts and running
> shoes. The hats, and the inscriptions on them, seemed insignificant at
> the time. They did prove to be good conversation pieces, however.
> Yolanda and I discussed the '08 Olympics with the other families like
> us, awaiting eight-month-old daughters, on the bus ride back to the
> hotel.
>
> This was exactly one week before we met our precious Isabella, Xin
> Meng (which means "new dreams" in Chinese). We were all doing the
> simple math that would tell us how old our daughters would be in 2008.
> We all agreed that it would be such a wonderful experience to bring
> them back for the games and introduce the little girls to the land of
> their birth. We speculated on whether they would be old enough to
> understand. We wondered about the in-between years and how we would
> all be different. Would we have other children? Would our daughters
> even care about China? Would we all be able to meet again and
> reminisce about our experiences together? It was indeed an interesting
> ride back to the hotel and I distinctly remember Yolanda and I
> deciding then and there that we would make it a point to be at the
> games in Beijing in '08 with Isabella.
>
> At the time, it wasn't a stretch to believe we would be able to do it.
> In fact, it wasn't even something we gave a second thought to. If we
> wanted to go to China we just did it. If we wanted to go anywhere,
> back then, we just did it. Four days prior to climbing the Great Wall
> and purchasing tourists hats, I had stood in a record store on Santa
> Monica boulevard and picked my debut release "American Dreams" out of
> it's own sleeve in "H" section. My single "Babies" was number 15 on
> the Adult Contemporary pop chart (with a bullet, as they say) and I
> was told at my record release party two days prior to that, that I
> would be touring extensively upon my return from China - "line up a
> nanny", are the exact words my agent used, "you're going to be gone a
> lot". I was ready for it. I felt as though I could do no wrong and was
> living the part I was born to play.
>
> I had gone from a meteoric career in Christian music, logging twenty
> one number 1 hits in seven years, Grammy and Dove nominations and
> walls full of platinum, to landing a record deal with Universal South
> records as a solo artist. My wife had been a very successful promoter
> in the radio world as well. She was responsible for helping launch
> some of the biggest names in country music. We were a jet setting,
> highly paid, well groomed couple who understood success and how to
> achieve it. We had, however, begun to feel empty in our lives and
> after learning that we couldn't produce children of our own, decided
> to go to China and bring home a little girl. That decision would
> change everything.
>
> By the time I reached her, she had lived in an overcrowded orphanage
> and had been in foster care twice. She was eight months old. The night
> she was placed in my wife's arms she was burning with fever and
> visibly confused. We took her directly to the hotel room and stripped
> her down to check for any physical problems. We found tiny holes in
> her hands and feet where she had been given IV's over and over again
> for who knows what. She had a fresh immunization scar (she was
> probably given a shot and thrown directly in the van for the 6-hour
> drive from rural orphanage to 5-star hotel). Her toe nails were
> growing crooked due to the undersized shoes she constantly wore. She
> was completely horrified at the bath we were giving her which made us
> question whether or not she'd actually ever had one. She couldn't hold
> her head up, wouldn't take a bottle or eat and did nothing but scowl
> and sleep for her first three days in our care. Every night I placed
> her on my knees and fed her with a medicine dropper to get nourishment
> down her. We took her to the Chinese hospital twice in three days
>
> After taking her to the hospital twice and seeing the hotel doctor
> several times, we realized something was wrong with our daughter.
> After her three days of sleep she began waking up screaming every hour
> and would continue to scream for the next three hours. Eventually
> exhaustion would send her back into sleep for another hour. The
> process went on like that for 10 days. In the confusion of the moment
> we attributed her strange behavior to infections, viruses, the shock
> of new parents, new places, new food, new clothes, new sights and
> sounds. But as the days wore on and the other little girls in the
> group got more and more acclimated and seemed to normalize, we had an
> ominous feeling we were dealing with something bigger.
>
> The drama of China was almost endless. The SARS virus was running
> rampant through the country and I was exhibiting all the symptoms - so
> was my daughter. We feared we would never get out of the country, but
> on our 21st day we slipped past customs and on to the plane bound for
> America. Isabella screamed at the top of her lungs for twelve of the
> fourteen hours in the air. I walked her up and down the aisles for ten
> straight hours, providing temporary moments of silence and relief to
> the other passengers. Once again though, everyone could see something
> was wrong.
>
>  After a fourteen hour flight from China and a five hour flight from
> LA to Nashville, we finally had our baby in our house and in her room.
> We prayed the routine, nutrition and comfort of home would bring her
> around and one day she would just pop her head up and be a normal
> little girl. It never happened. Each night was filled with two hours
> of sleep followed by three hours of screaming. Each day was filled
> with propping her up, trying to get her to crawl, stand, babble, eat,
> anything that would signify she was well. Again, it wasn't to be. The
> only thing that had changed for the better was her beautiful,
> infectious laughter. Constant smiling and laughter. It was a delicious
> gift that propelled us through each day. The fact that she couldn't
> hold a cup or play with a doll never stopped her from lighting a room
> up with an indescribable smile. It's a gift she still gives.
>
> We immediately contacted therapists and enrolled her in government
> sponsored programs that we thought could help. She was denied coverage
> in our private insurance plan due to "pre-existing conditions", so we
> spent thousands of dollars out of our own pocket for trips to the
> doctor and the emergency room. After three months, we cashed in the
> entirety of our savings, stocks, bonds and retirement plans to
> continue her medical care. Even with all the money spent, all the
> doctors seen, speech, occupational and physical therapies being done
> four days a week, no one could offer a diagnosis for her delays and
> lack of responses. We were told she had everything from autism to
> cerebral palsy to severe mental retardation. There were speculations
> that she'd been dropped on her head as an infant. Maybe she was born
> pre-maturely. Maybe the umbilical cord had been wrapped around her
> neck, cutting off circulation long enough to cause brain damage. She
> could've possibly been exposed to some ultra-toxic mold. It was all
> speculation and completely maddening. Meanwhile, the years of constant
> sleep deprivation, draining of personal finances, and the neglect of
> my career, in order to be home with Isabella, was taking a physical,
> mental, financial and emotional toll on my wife and me. We found
> ourselves barely hanging on to sanity and losing faith in
> possibilities. Bella's laugh and the occasional uplifting email or
> phone call from a friend was our only comfort.
>
> As the years progressed, however, we discovered certain things that
> helped Isabella sleep. Two hours a night stretched into five which
> stretched to seven which has finally stretched to nine. She began to
> eat and soon became the queen of sweet potatoes! At eighteen months,
> she learned to crawl. At three, she learned to walk. One day, a friend
> visiting from out of town said "she acts a lot like my friend's son
> who has something called Angelman Syndrome". We rushed home to the
> computer and researched the disorder at length. It is a complete or
> partial deletion of the 15th maternal chromosome (in layman's terms).
> At the moment, it's incurable. Some of the symptoms are; delayed motor
> skills, severe sleep disorders, eating problems, seizures, lack of
> speech, hyper activity, obsessions with water and plastic, and a happy
> demeanor ...constant smiling. It was the only thing we'd ever seen
> that sounded like our Bella. We immediately got in line for a genetics
> test at Vanderbilt. After three series of tests, on July 3rd, 2007 we
> were given the diagnosis of Angelman Syndrome. Deletion positive.
> After five years of groping for answers we finally had one. As dire as
> the diagnosis was, we were almost relieved to know what we were
> dealing with. We now had a name and a cause on which to focus our
> attention.
>
> With no one interested in signing me to a record label or booking me
> for shows or using me to produce other artists, I limped along in the
> songwriting world anonymously for the next several years. I would get
> up at 5 or 6 in the morning, make Isabella's breakfast, clean her up,
> then sit her in a high chair next to the piano and write songs while
> she smiled at me. It was wonderful ...
>
> leer más »
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