Skip to main content

final days

i said the first of many goodbye's today. i didn't want to leave Aunty's home, especially on her birthday, especially when we'd been pouring our hearts out to one another. i heard about her recent eye loss and how it's curtailed her cooking and work. i shared some recent reading that has made me ponder what God has planned for me next. as i walked down familiar stairs for the last time, as i told a boy i've seen grow from infant to little man that i wouldn't see him again until he was much bigger, as i received one last colorful card from my little friend my heart broke a bit, my eyes clouded with tears.
thankfully, it no longer feels like india has conquered me. i don't feel defeated or lost. i am still perplexed by the place i fill and the place i am expected to fill in india. i understand more and more. i enjoy the smiles more. the stress of the past few years has melted away as i've been able to enjoy india once again. and i don't even feel sad that i'm not staying. i'll miss those kids, i'll miss sitting with Aunty, but i love looking forward to next steps and family awaiting me on far shores.
and before reaching those far shores, i have a mountain or two left to climb, literally. i'm reliving my early india days -- back at the VYK for AIF orientation (this time as an alum), once again campaigning for Dems Abroad, trekking the himalayas in search of no cell reception and thin air. my faithful friend will surely lead us to a place of no reception and thin air, laughing at my lowlander gasps for oxygen. i've come full circle yet india runs in my blood now (literally, probably, given the likelihood i've contracted something whilst here). and i'll be back to ski kashmir alpine slopes and climb himalayan peaks. God has displayed His majesty in unmatched ways in the high places of india and i won't refuse His call to return.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Rare Disease Day 2024

Today's Rare Disease Day. There's sometimes a particular weightiness to life with a rare disease. All the appointments, emergencies, traumas, doctors, therapists, medicines, opinions, schedules and upset schedules. My touchpoint is being mom to my precious girl with Wiedemann-Steiner Syndrome  (WSS). You'd have to spend a day or week shadowing me to know what it's really like. Doesn't that sound alienating? As though you couldn't possibly imagine if you're not living it? Well, maybe. But think about a time of immense grief you've lived through, or a time when your world seemed to be falling apart around you and it felt like everyone else was completely unaffected. I suppose it's a bit like that. You might have thought that those around you couldn't possibly know how that experience felt to you. A couple weeks ago, I started keeping a list of all the extraordinary things that happened in my life due to my daughter's rare disease. I learned a c...
1 comment
Read more

Startup Day 875: piloting in New Haven

Iteration is emblematic of startups. For example: From last year's pilot , we learned that parents and adults with disabilities were looking for recommended resources.  We built the Empowered Together app and tried crowd-sourcing those recommendations.  In our New Haven pilot, we're bringing database building in-house by listing accessible food, arts, and recreational businesses in greater New Haven.  Thankfully, we have thought partners in this endeavor at the City of New Haven and at community disability orgs. We are working with a Quinnipiac student and awaiting word on additional grant funding. We're taking the right next step in changing the social system to be accessible and inclusive of People with Disabilities.
Post a Comment
Read more

How I Got a Blister from a Cowbell

The bullhorn sounded and he was off, swimming his heart out, across a 50m stretch of lake as deep as his arm is long. My youngest, William, competed in his third year of the  Race4Chase  triathlon in August. When we first applied, I reflected on how I hoped this triathlon camp would allow Will to do something that was entirely his. It would be an opportunity to spread his wings apart from his sister's influence. For siblings of kids living with disabilities, this kind of autonomy is life giving. Back at the lakeside, I was watching Will from a distance and ringing a cowbell like no ones business. Will ran up from the waterfront and we cheered him on. He transitioned to the bike portion and we cheered him on. When he came into view at the end of the bike and transitioned to the run, the final segment of the race, we cheered him on. All the while, that cowbell was clanging. When Will sprinted across the finish line, there was no stopping him (or the cowbell). Thinking about...
1 comment
Read more