There is a reason I write a lot more than I talk. Well, I’m sure some would debate that, but at least when I write I don’t end up hiding my face in embarrassment (that you can see).
Holy geez. This summer is a tough one. I may have actually told my mother today I’m giving up. But you know what? That’s not a dang option. That ain’t no … ? I don’t know. I’m trying to be grammatically correct, yet emphatic. Got me? Anyway, I’m going to find some joy tonight and you know what very quickly and easily brings the joy? I know you do.
Most often, I’d say after three months and five parts, you have to find a conclusion. There is honestly so much more I could share but I’ve lost my voice this last couple of weeks (mostly literally) from this lovely pneumonia-ish thing that’s flung me back with a reminder I’m just not in control. I’ve really felt for those who struggle to breathe due to chronic illnesses or worse. You have my utmost respect for the patience you must find on a daily basis.
But, Guatemala. Last I left you we’d finished our Wednesday and we were hungry for more. Today, I’m going to do my best to limit the words (no voice, remember!) and share photos of what our final two and a half days were like. Honestly, there aren’t enough words in all of ever to talk about Friday or the Saturday morning we departed. That’s what photos are for. So with that, let’s wrap it up.
This week has been a hard one. So, my heart is looking for some reminders of what it felt like to be in Guatemala. Mike actually told me he missed my Guatemala face. I am pretty sure I got some sun? I definitely didn’t look Guatemalan, though. But really, I looked healthy and happy and not exhausted (like I do). I miss that place and that feeling of just … peace. Life just isn’t a rush there. I’m sure for many of our friends that move their lives to Guat the wait for nearly everything, e.g. car insurance, can send one into hysterics, but honestly, what’s the rush? Just like mornings on the roof, breakfast arrival at 8 and frozen mango cups you can drill at with a plastic spoon for an eternity if you’d like (still such a great idea, Anita!), the pace is just less frantic than here in the States.
I feel like I have to apologize because
everyone my friend Doug keeps asking for more about Guatemala, but today? Well, today it will have to wait. Instead, it’s a time for a different kind of celebration.
Are you ready to talk Tuesday? Isn’t that how they always tell people to keep going … one day at a time? I mean, I don’t want to rush it or anything. To be honest, I kind of love that this takes forever because every time I get to write about Guatemala again, my heart starts to swell and I feel super happy. But I also realize that we’re aging. So, I’ll get right to it.
I know it’s super hard to believe that we’d only arrived at my team’s very first day in Guatemala last we connected but I also know you can’t be surprised by my wordiness by now. #amiright?
I remember that morning so vividly. I woke up to a phone call from my mom. She sounded shaken and shared the news about my dear friend Paul. Early that morning, the morning of April 5, 2013, he had been overcome when a fire broke out in his home. He was gone. And I sat on the floor and cried.
As a little girl, most of my interactions involved my immediate family (dad, mom and at the time, evil sister. she’s since come around.) and some of our extended family members. When I was in high school, though, I had the privilege of having a few close girlfriends with whom I entrusted all of my boy crush secrets (because really? that was the only real confidential info i had to share at that point). And then the boys. Ugh. I started to really like the boys and would often choose spending time with them over my treasured friends. I know.
I snuck a peek into his classroom this morning and felt my heart skip a beat as I caught his face across the room. As he looked up (his teacher suggested a sneak attack #foiled), I couldn’t help but run over and bear hug the breath right out of him.