The "G" Word

Saying goodbye is something I have never liked doing.

In fact, I more than don’t like it: I’m completely opposed to it.

I used to say goodbye to people and places in my life, and every time, no matter how hard I would try not to, I get all worked up about it. Because when one says goodbye, it feels like there is a finality to it that just makes me uncomfortable.

So I don’t say goodbye anymore. And so far, this has worked out well for me. I bid people farewell, and say things like, “until we meet again,” but I don’t say goodbye.

I can’t, really, because it either hurts too much or feels like a lie, as I have a hard time believing in the finality that I unintentionally attach to the word.

Because on more than one occasion, I have bid someone “goodbye” believing it was likely we would never meet again. Friends who live overseas are sad but realistic examples of this. And yet, here I am in South Africa, living with a family that has become my own, proving my point precisely: when I left South Africa for the first time in August 2007, I did not believe I would ever return. I figured I would never see them again.

But then: God certainly does have a sense of humor, and here I am.

And so, as I prepare myself - my whole self - for a parting of ways when I return to the USA in a few weeks’ time, I am not preparing myself for saying goodbye. This time, I believe we will meet again, whether it is in person or in spirit, or through email or photos or perhaps through my dreams when I miss this wonderful place so much. And so, for all of these reasons, I am searching for ways not to say goodbye, but to say “thank you” for all this country - her places, and most importantly her people - have offered me.

We’ve Been on Acid…

Over the past 2 weeks, we have joked about a gremlin that must live on our plot out in Drumblade. It all started with Vixa, as he was the first to rip out a pair of jeans. The following day, Hannah did it. Then, on day 3, you guessed it: my favorite jeans! It was a sad day indeed.

Then came day 4, and if I was sad on day 3, I dont know how to describe my shock on day 4: my other nice pair of jeans were also torn out! I looked closely at the clothing, hoping to repair them, only to discover: the fabric was well worn, and easily tore like paper! So without a large patch to cover the entire effected area, no repairs could take place.

This required an investigation. I started talked about this at the office the next week and discovered shocking news: every staff person living on our plot, as well as a couple of Mama’s girls, have had this problem! What do we have in common? A lightbulb went off in my head late one night, but I wondered if I shared my conclusion if I wouldn’t be laughed at for having a conspiracy theory of sorts? It was worth a try… and I was surprised to be greeted with minimal laughter and lots of surprise. As the theory was passed along, more people came forward: about 20 items of clothing have been ruined.

My conclusion was this: a few weeks ago, a spare battery was placed in the boot of the car we use for transport to work (and the younger girls to school). This battery was tipped over spilling some of the batter acid in the boot. I ask: what if it leaked onto the back seat, and we are sitting on it: battery acid is eating our clothes! Soon we shall have none left…

At first, Vixa and Clifford laughed at me. Then I told Vixa I would ride in the front today, he could ride in the back with the girls. Suddenly, it wasn’t funny anymore! haha. So he got a cushion and covered the back seat, on which stains could be seen making it appear wet… could that be it?

Sure enough, that was it. No more clothes have come up holy as of yet, and the cushion from an outdoor lounge chair is clearly a lot stronger than our mostly-cotton clothing. Now I only wish we could make the car pay for the clothes that have forever been ruined! Oh, well, at least like all stories, there is a moral to this one: stay away from acid. It ruins you… and your clothes.

Preparing for the Final Ride

Tonight is the eve of our final ride together, and it seems incredibly surreal.

We have had a long, hard, joyful, trying and life-filled journey. In the moment, words cannot fully express all that I am thinking and feeling. Love and excitement are in the air as we spend an evening in Annapolis together, laughing, playing games, fellowshipping over pizza and as we check in with the “real world” via the internet. There is also a solemnity in the air as we are all beginning to realize what the exciting end of this journey (we made it!!!) might actually mean and look like (it is likely we won’t all be together again).

Today was a bit of a rat-race around DC, trying to coordinate between where the bikers were and how the support vehicle folks could get to them in order to enjoy the day together… DC is a pedestrian (and bike)-friendly city… but isn’t great for those of us trying to gather with them from the car. It was a bit of a run-around and frustrating, but it worked out in the end and we have safely arrived in Annapolis, Maryland. It was a reminder of at least one reason why I will be relieved when the journey continues, though.

More than not, I am confident that I will be increasingly sad and somber as the end draws near. I am surrounded by folks I would never have known or become friends with in my “normal” life. I have been challenged in ways I did not fully anticipate, in ways that I know have helped me to grow. I have been a part of a strong, supportive community that has introduced me to new people, places, ideas, activities, though processes and ways of life. Through the good and the bad, I have spent a significant amount of time trying to process all that we have experienced together, and as the summer draws near, I am increasingly aware of the new ways I have done this.

Community is a funny thing sometimes. In this case, it was a forced community that came together to support a common cause. We have remained so focused on this cause and on unity, that even in this “close” community I have realize I may have more “walls” here than I have in any other place in my life. Its interesting to think that we have spent nearly 7 weeks together, and I anticipate this group will see “a whole new side of Jen” when my sister arrives on Saturday… for it is when I am with her that all of my boundaries are collapsed, my life is laid out into a place of vulnerability, and I find one of the safest places I know. There are few people I find more safety in that in the (brief) presence of my sea-star.

Glad as I will be to be home, I am thankful for this journey. The weekend will be interesting… but awesome. I am actually really looking forward to tomorrow, when we will ride into the beach, arrive at the ocean (finally!!!), celebrate and camp on the beach, share in communion, perhaps sing a few songs and have a great time together. I hope the arrival and fellowship are as rich and powerful as we have dreamt them up to be.