The Farewell...

This is a very long post. I apologize but I really wanted to pour my heart out and typing it proves to be quicker than journaling it by hand. Please bear with me and carry us in prayer if you may, these are my pearls.

Tuesday, Feb. 19/08
I wake up shortly before Josue comes in to say good bye. As my mind awakens the thoughts of the day ahead begin a whirlwind in my mind. As I try to order my thoughts, Josue comes in. Teary eyed he bends over my short bed to say good bye. We hug, shortly but tightly, exchange quick "I love yous" and keep the rest bottled in our hearts. Josue, he is his own man now and walks through life trying to figure it out. He is so full of dreams. I pray he realizes the greatness God has deposited in him sooner than later and manages to find strategies to fulfill his God given dreams. We always laugh with (and at) him... I hope he knows how much of a joy he is. In honor of his personality, he wears his emotions on his sleeves, so this will be a hard good bye. We don't want to let it all out... you know, he is heading for work and doesn't need tears to distract him. I don't want to start crying... not yet. Off he goes as if we will just reconnect at the end of the day and we each suffer the pain of the separation quietly in our hearts.

I get up and continue the task of gathering our belongings from every room in the house. The pit in my stomach increasingly grows. Little girls are whisked outside for a few last moments of play with "Pita" and "Pito" and to release me to finish packing properly. As I said before, this just doesn't get easier no matter how many times you do it.

Mamita is the next good bye, she tries to talk her way through the tears. Maybe if she talks enough she can keep the tears from flowing. She hugs us, blesses us, kisses us and then hugs us some more. I try walking her home but she manages to escape, I don't think she wants me to see her cry. She has always been so strong I don't think she knows how to be vulnerable around others. But I know her... I know the sweetness and tenderness in her heart. So I respect her desire for privacy and as I see her go and explain to Elena why she doesn't have a car (Elena is quite puzzled to see her walk away), I watch her and pray. I see her tired body swaying from side to side as she walks. She is slow but steady, up right thanks to the back brace that has helped her through the years. I pray, "Lord, please don't let this be the last good bye..."

The car gets loaded up with suitcases full of old stuff, new stuff, fun stuff, needed stuff, and as I do a "stupid check" (we learned this phrase from our dear family, the other Levenduskys) to try and spot forgotten items I realize my heart is just as full. My heart is full with the memories made as my little ones interacted with the world I left behind. It is not a country, it is not a family, it is a world, it is a life I left and it never ceases to amaze and surprise me how the intertwining of the new and the old lives can be so joyful and painful at the same time.

The next good byes are Jonathan and my dad. Jonathan, we could have never done all we did this trip without all of his work. My little brothers are now men! I can't get over it. He is the "go getter", so full of plans and ideas. I pray for the Lord's blessing and guidance in his endeavors. I can't stop the tears from coming now. We hug, tightly and then we hug again. I try to think of all the things I need to thank them for and may have forgotten to tell him. It's no use, I don't remember everything, tears are betraying us both and in the end, he does know, so we leave it there.

My dad is quick to let go, I think he might be afraid that a too tight hug may squeeze the tears out of him. I don't think he likes good byes or tears for that matter. I pray for God's healing in his life, more than his hearing, his heart. I know God provides for his every need, He is faithful like that, His help is readily available and He will surely make up for what he loses in his silent world. I release my Dad in my Father's care, his health, his heart, his emotions... I can't do anything else for him, but where I can't reach God can meet him so I rest in the reminder of His everlasting promise.

We get in the car and as soon as we leave the street I put my hand in my Mom's arm. She is already crying, so am I. "I can't stop crying. I don't want to but I can't stop", she says. "Maybe we don't need to stop" I reply. I don't know why we fight tears so much, we just do. I try to help us both find solace in knowing that God does have a purpose for this because He is not cruel but He is good. Most of the drive we cry... as we stop at the curb in the airport and bags get unloaded into a cart, the tears become completely inevitable. We hug once and again and can hardly talk through the tears, the "I love yous" and all the "please take care of yourself", "let's pray that God will provide for you to visit soon", etc.

My tears are quickly forced to a halt as we reach the ticket counter and composure is immediately needed in trying to check us all in, fill out immigration forms, go past security check points, etc. At the gate I get a minute to sit down and the immediate needs of little girls take my mind away from it all.