We’re here. It’s been a hard week, and we have only just begun the many meetings and grievings, the sorting and the packing. We are starting to be over jet lag – to be sleeping at night and hungry at the right times. We have met with some of our closest friends who are here in our home village, and will see the ones in Kigali next week.
It has been an incredible blessing to have our friend with us through this first time. I can’t say enough how thankful I am she has come.
I’m mostly sticking close to home, but Mike has been out more, greeting people in the community. I had a kinyarwanda lesson once where I learned all of the various phrases you use to say to someone who has been in pain, and so have been able to understand most of what people have been saying to us. (It’s odd, in North America we don’t know what to say, but here tragedy is common, so there are standard, stock phrases for it. I want to dismiss them as cliché and empty – but there is also something comforting about it.)
And we are sorting. What do we bring back to Canada? Give away? Try to sell?? And Beatrix’s stuff… So many of the books represent great memories, but what would I do with them? (Plus, there is a preschool that could put them to good use.) I haven’t looked at the toys yet. I think what is most poignant for me, is that each of her belongings was given/made/chosen with deliberation and love (either by me or by our friends/family). I have had so many moments as I’ve sorted, thinking of the people who gave Beatrix gifts.
I’m too tired and scattered yet to have a point, other than: this is hard, and we are OK.