Goodbyes are my weakness

Good bye’s have started. Good bye’s have always been my weakness. In middle of rubble I say goodbye to one of the boys I have become closer to. I make my way back through the rubble, meandering around broken stone and concrete in front of me. Once it was a house, not it is remains knocked down on the street in front of me. My feet crawl through the structure in new ways.

I come back I sit in the court yard. Alone. Staring up at the sky. I try not to let tears roll down. The boys walk past me and stop and glance. They know I am hurting. I see concern in their faces. I smile. Throughout all my clarity in Haiti, I have had sporadic moments of further clarity and vision. I cry. I smile. I have become what to someone is a miracle. To me being there in that moment has also become a miracle.