any - and naturally, emotions ran high.
It was bizarre to watch them all go, bizarre to remember my departure from Mexico four years ago. I left kicking and screaming then, cried for days and I remember being terrified of the transition. And through all of the goodbyes the last few days I didn't cry, not even once. I suppose this can be attributed to me getting older and having been through a few more transitions, but it still seemed odd to me. Maybe I just felt like I had to be strong for them? Although there were times when tears would have seemed more appropriate; I don't know.
The closest I came to tears was during one of our reflection sessions, when one of the girls talked about how she feels that she has fallen in love with Central America. When she said it I could see in her, through her tears, that she really did feel heartbroken to leave. I remember that feeling; I think she'll be back. I'm excited to see what they do - that intensity of sadness and purpose usually turns into some kind of action.
This afternoon I read an email from my dad and it wasn't sad, but I just broke down in tears. I'm ecstatic to go home in a few days and I adore this job, but I really will miss them.
Y si alguno de ustedes esta leyendo esto: Espero que hayan llegado bien a sus casas, que esten descansando (espiritualmente y fisicamente) con familia o amigos o quien sea que te llene. Me impresionaron un monton y les voy a extranar muchsisismo.
in those days,
we finally chose
to walk like giants
& hold the world
in arms grown strong with love
& there may be many things we forget
in the days to come,
but this will not be one of them.
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