Witnessing a Beautiful Moment

This moment has been with me for the past five hours.  I was t the supermarket behind the orphanage.  As I checked out, I made the lazy decision to take the moving walkway instead of the stairs.  As I walked up to the walkway, there was a 50-year old woman standing there, looking at it.  She was in her hijab, looking really uneasy.  I gave her a smile as I passed by her.  A part of me wanted to help, but I knew that would be inappropriate.

I’m glad I didn’t.  When I looked back at the woman, her husband had caught up with her.  He took her hand and eased her slowly onto the platform.  It took her a couple false starts, but she got the hang of it.  It was so cute. It was one of those moments when I realize I want a love that lasts into old age.

That being said, my next memory is about a wedding:

Day Six: My Sister’s Wedding

 

A Month Without Her

I spent a month (Oct. 20 through Nov. 20) falling in love with a girl who lived 1,300 miles away from me.  It was easily the best month of my life thus far.  Now it’s been a month without her.  It’s been strange.  It not like I think about her everyday.  No.  That would be easy.  I find myself thinking she would make each destination in my daily life so much better–so much fuller.  Some days are easier than other–but some days are downright lonely without her.

I’m moving forward in going to the Peace Corps.  Which means another 800 days without her.  The idea frightens me.  I know I asked for this by letting myself fall in love with her so soon before leaving the country.  The thing is, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  Period.  The time apart will be impossible.  It’ll teach us much about ourselves and each other.  It may rip us apart.  But it may make us stronger.  I do not know the future.  All I know is that, right now,  I see no other option.  The Peace Corps is where my life has been pointed for years.  With it finally on my doorstep, how do I walk away?  What kind of life will be waiting for me if I do?

The internal conflict burns inside of me as–each day–I read over more forms and learn Arabic.  It’s like I’m living two lives at this point.  At some point, one of those lives will have to fall into a hibernation–hoping to be reawoken in the near-future.  At this point, I expect that to be the life with her.  I do not like that.  I hate that that is going to be my decision.  I try every day to re-imagine what life would be like if I stayed in the states….but it’s getting harder and harder to see it.

This blog is going to transform in the days, weeks, and months ahead.  As I make the transition to living overseas, it will remain my writing blog.  But it will also take on the aspects of a Peace Corps Journal.  Although I am not legally allowed to share my specific whereabouts or doings, I will be able to share my personal thoughts and writings.  That will not change.

I have much from my teenager years that I still want to upload before I leave.  I think I need to up it to three per update.  Here’s today’s batch of poems from nine years ago:

One Thing Left

What It’s All About

Our Autumn Fall

 

Crossroads #42

After more than three weeks in Washington State, I am finding myself at yet another crossroads.  This one is rather large.  I know I have choices.  Big ones.  I know that I’ve find someone.  I know I want to stay.  I know I want the Peace Corps.  I know I want the career that the Peace Corps provides.  I know I can’t have both…at least not now.

Meanwhile, my dog died.  I grew up with Cassidy from my preteen years on.  It was a great loss…and very difficult to experience from so far away.  I’m having a hard time focusing right now.  So here is the poem I have prepared.

Cassidy