Before there can be firsts, there must be lasts. The last meal, the last walk up the hill, the last hug from a friend, the last words of encouragement, the last good bye, the last door closed behind. The last of a life lived and known. Lasts. Loss.
Before we can venture into new, we must depart from what has brought comfort. We must step toward the void and risk what fear can accomplish. I have the bravest little girl. Every parent that's walked away with a new son, a new daughter, from an orphanage knows this. I cannot begin to understand her soup of emotions as she lays sleeping here in the room with me. I know my own confusion, excitement, struggle, joy and fear. But I don't know them well for we are not old friends. How much more estranged are Leïka's feelings when all is new. New is everywhere. All she has is two strangers who she is contemplating befriending.
And so we depart. We leave GLA, and all that is Haiti behind as we watch Port au Prince diminish as flight AA2277 ascends. We have left with a treasure, a gift, that we do not understand as of yet. We depart from the life and family as we have known it heading toward something new. An adventure which I crave; butterflies, knots, bumps and all. For what was, has departed. And what will be just came into the delivery room.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Brenda Wilbee | January 29, 2014 at 6:11 PM
As always Dallas, you tap into deep emotion. Thanks for sharing, and writing of it so well. I love you.
Unknown | January 29, 2014 at 11:31 PM
You will all adjust to each other in time. The trust for all is there. The bonds are just forming. There is lost of ups and downs. In the end you are a family completed through love and devotion to each other and the precious daughter that Gad has brought into your life.