Lyndi Jahelka, Marketing & Advertising - Olathe
When I was a kid I used to tell people about the day I “got” my brother they always looked at me funny. “Don’t you mean the day he was born?” they would ask. “Nope.” I would say, “We got him.” Then I would smile back at the confused looks on their faces. You see my brother was adopted. And even though it happened over 30 years ago I remember when we got him like it was yesterday. For over a year our family was on a waiting list at an adoption agency. We started off excited, especially me. I would wake up every morning and ask my parents if I was going to get a baby brother or sister today. As an only child, and the only grandchild I desperately wanted someone to play with. But as the days dragged on to weeks and weeks to months we all became discouraged. Then finally on July 10 the phone rang. There was a baby boy on the way with our name on him. I remember clear as day dancing around the living room with my mom, laughing and crying. My god I was so excited. Then it was a mad dash to get all of the essentials like a crib, bottles, and cloths before we made the long drive to actually go get my new baby brother. To a seven year-old it was an eternity waiting for all of the miles to pass by but it was worth it when the doctor brought him out to us. The minute I saw him I fell in love. And I tell him to this day, that the day we “got” him was one of the best days ever.