March 29, 2015
The mountain is pink out the window to the west. I know it is west because the sun was setting over it last evening. It poured in through the window onto the couch, where I sat reading my book. This morning, the snow is pink with the sunrise.
It’s my last day here with my beloved mountain. I’ve skied and eaten and read. I had planned to catch up on correspondence, but “Safari can’t connect to the server”. I’ve seen that sentence about fifty times. Then I stopped trying. So now I sit with my tea beside me, my mountain in front of me, and write. I stop worrying about Safari. I’ll connect later.
Last Sunday, after I posted the blog I got an unfamiliar notice and went searching a little. In the lefthand corner of the page was a message notice. I clicked on it. It was half a sentence with three dots after it. I clicked on the dots and a full message came up.
There is a midwife from UK in Shamwana. She has my book. She has Beatrice and Gerardine and Generose with her. She says they are safe. She says she didn’t know how to get in touch with me to tell me, so she tried this.
I started to shake. They are alive! They are safe! The last I’d heard they had been evacuated because the fighting broke out again, then nothing after that. I quickly sent a message back, tears streaming down my face. She has been there six weeks. She’d read my book. She wanted to let me know that they want to be in touch with me somehow.
My mind was filled with the image of dear Carmen looking at my book for the first time and saying, “Oh, you dedicated it to Beatrice and Gerardine. Wait until they see that!” And I had responded, “They will never see this. There is no way this will ever make it to them. That was just a pipe dream.”
And now they have my book! They know I am thinking of them! They know I am telling their story! I promised them I would, and now they know! I told her to tell them I miss them and think about them all the time. Tell them people ask about them. Tell them they are famous!
I now believe that anything is possible.
I signed off with her and said I would write soon. I had a guest speaker coming I had to prepare for. I had an event to arrange. I had a full office to see, taxes to pay, two deliveries that came quickly. The week was full as usual, and then I was leaving for my ski weekend. I planned to write to them from here. I’m alone and have plenty of time to write when I am sipping my pre-ski tea or aprés-ski wine.
And Safari can’t connect to the server.