Sunday Morning ~ Littleton
Mbeu mpoyamba ~ Good crop is in the first days.
~ Chewa proverb
February 24, 2019
I’m sitting with Moxie the puppy, waiting for James to run from his bedroom toward his parents’. I’ll intercept him and let them sleep in a bit. I remember my mother getting up early with the kids and what a huge treat that was, especially after we’d been out on a Saturday night. If there was anything that taught us to refuse that last drink, it was the thought if getting up with the kids in the morning. Yesterday’s birthday celebration must have wiped James out as it’s a full thirty-four minutes past his usual reverie and here I sit without my early-morning companion. He’s three years old now and I’m pondering how much water has flowed underneath the bridge since the day he arrived. This was the first birthday party of either grandchild that I’ve made it to! I was on-call for Ameila’s first three and the next two I was in Malawi and I’ll miss her sixth in June as I’ll be spending that month back in Blantyre. We’ll celebrate early with something fun and I’m reminded of how many times I missed my kids’ events because of work and how I struggled to compensate.
I knew 2019 was going to be a year of flux for me and though it is a little uncomfortable, I’m trying to roll with it. I’ve been trying to assimilate the wants of being home, being with George, being with the grandchildren, and being in Malawi. So far George has been the one lacking, though we do now have a plan to meet on Maui in April. That is a relief. The project in Malawi has been my priority as I feel like the beginning is crucial to it’s success. I am by no means the only one who can move this forward, but right now it feels my calling. I’m struggling with the ethics of this, mindful of the comeuppance I got at the MANA conference about perpetuating colonialism and wonder if my role is for the good of the project. I struggle with wondering if I should stick to my home and work on the problems here or focus on this midwifery ward that I honestly feel deep in my bones is what I should be doing. I wonder where that feeling of having to follow a certain path comes from? Do we make it up to suit our desires? Maybe. I am drawn there and feel the deepest need to return. I believe with all my heart that this model will make things better for women. So I am trying to strike a balance between analyzing the ethics of it all and following my heart. Honestly, it’s a little like when I met George. I spent hours wondering if I was being too impulsive, if I were dreaming up the feelings because I wanted them to be there, if I were trying too hard to turn a fantasy into reality. I decided to stop analyzing and take the leap of getting into a new relationship, and so far (though not without some weeding) it has blossomed a thousand times. I look back on how I could have sabotaged that beginning and am grateful I took the risk. I feel as clear about this endeavor. The beam shines directly toward this goal and I want to follow it. It’s funny how I interpret every sign from the universe into an indication. Song lyrics seem to be all about this ward, the Star Wars books I read to James make sense in this context, surprise visits from old friends, and random news stories all make the path seem padded. I am aware I’m making all this up, manipulating my mind to interpret signals to suit my desires, but then I think, so what? Nothing is forever and this feels right. So I’m going with it.
I think I’ll leave it there. There’s a home improvement project to help with this morning before hitting the road to Maine, the weather is looking iffy for travel, and it might be a long ride. And my buddy is up…
Love to all,