Goodbyes

Our alarms rang this morning, bringing on the feeling of dread. After reaching home at around 12:30 am from the festival, we all agreed that it somehow felt like we hadn't slept but a few hours. This would be quite normal back home, but one of the nice things about living here is we had all been fairly consistent about closing the day around 9:30-10 pm. Lacking two hours deemed recognizable. Maybe it was that, or perhaps the fact we were bidding Mardi goodbye today.

Late nights to early morning, for lasting friends

I let the doctor know I would be in a little later, and pulled the chairs around the table. Mardi, Kelly and I sat around the end, tea mugs and “Nice” biscuits in hand, swapping pictures, sharing stories and living out the last moments before the departure vehicle came. The last tea time, like the old people we were. Even after a month and a half, it somehow seemed like a lot longer for us. A future road trip across Canada was booked in Mardi's plan, and surfing in Australia was added to my bucket list.

Mardi stopped by the clinic on her way out, for a final goodbye. I had heard that many long-term volunteers, or even locals, do not get close to people, knowing that they will only have to leave. I believe that this in itself is a loss – a loss of someone you could have known, made memories with, learned from, someone who could come to impact your life in a positive way, or even be an answer to prayer. I never wanted to leave Watoto feeling impartial to those left behind and my only joy found in going home. Why go at all? It should be difficult to leave and harder to say goodbye. That signifies time well-spent and days that were worth the while. Anything worth living and experiencing will, in no doubt, be felt on leaving. Moreover, meeting new friends, but discovering sisters, will undoubtedly be felt on separation. Yet in this, there is no loss, but gain.

We should not be afraid to live, for fear of what we will lose. Rather, according to Christ we're often told to “pour out” and lose our own lives, in order to fully live. Loss is inevitable, but serves to demonstrate that there was room for gain and fulfilment in the first place. Leaving Watoto will be difficult for who I have met and what I have learned, yet it is because of the blessing that it has been. Regarding friendships, I trust that the God who joined those distances in the first place, will bring back together in His own timing.