Numbered Days

It´s a month and 5 days away: what most current volunteers dread and say they want to miss . It´s only that far until the end of our time here.

I´m sitting in my worksite updating this, and as much as that number makes me nervous, I really don´t have a lot to worry about. I´m returning to a fully paid for graduate school education, a place to live, my family, friends, girlfriend, and a job. Returning to the States with all of this to fall into is a true blessing, one that a lot of the friends I´ve made here will never know.

Yet these friends are going to be the ones that get left behind, at least physically. I won´t be able to just pass by Monica´s house and hang out with her and Valeria, my goddaughter. I won´t be able to call up Luisana and see if I can pass by her house and hang out with Katy and Anthony. I won´t be able to go to mass in Parroquia Bautismo de Jesús every week, help play music and lead the youth ministry. I won´t be able to help out at the Oratorio Salesiano anymore and interact with the students I´ve learned to love. I will be returning to great things in the States, but I am going to be leaving a lot of great things, too.

What matters, though, is that these people who I´ve grown to love are going to be part of who I am. Their stories have now become part of my story, and I want to continue living them out in my life. So while our time together may be coming to an end, our time as friends and companions in this life is only just beginning. After this year I could start counting the days that I remember them in my life. It would probably last for a very long time, a lifetime, perhaps.

Writing about it makes me realize it could be a lot worse. I´m stuck between a flower patch and a soft place, looking forward to a future that is bound to be everything that I want it to be, but looking back at a past full of love in spite of challenges. Let´s hope that as the numbers decrease I can continue with this attitude.