Goodnight, Uganda

Our last day has passed.

We were blessed to spend it with many friends, American and Ugandan, adults and children; which is a pretty good summary of our months here.  We spent the whole day at home, which I also appreciate.  I like this home.

I packed the suitcases.  This morning, I had everything organized, but nothing packed.  I guess I had organized well, because a few hours of up-and-down the stairs, conversation and gathering and folding, and it all got put away.  It wasn't as much stuff as I had thought it would be.  I got through all the "maybe" piles (except for some things I decided we didn't really want after all), and still had some spaces in some of the suitcases.  We have eight big suitcases, three little ones, and three backpacks.  The backpacks are finished yet.

I could have probably taken one fewer bag, but I wanted to bring some of the simple things from our lives here.  I think, when we go to remember this time, our strongest memories won't be about the Kampala monuments or the beautiful batik fabric.  It will be the bowls and plates we used every meal; the wooden candleholders; the tea cup I held in my hands so many times, every single day.  I think those will be the things that one day we will say, "remember, that was when we lived in Uganda."

I can't believe that our whole lives fit in those little squares.  Or all the things that make up a life.

Hibiscus is afraid she is going to forget.  She is afraid she will forget her friends, and how to be Ugandan.  She is excited to go, but I think that's what is inside her, pulling her back.  On the one hand, I think she will forget less than she worries that she will.  She won't forget her best friends at Montessori School.  But on the other hand, she will move on, and she doesn't realize that yet.  She will make new friends, and being parted from the old ones won't be a hole, it will be something hazy in the background behind the new joy.  And the new squabbles and games and curiosities of daily life.

My husband is collecting lots of warm clothes, for our little girls who think that 65 degrees is frigid and need to put on multiple layers.  I bought a babywearing coat, so I can wrap up Buttercup and put a coat around us both.  I think she will prefer to be held close; inside; protected by me from the outside world.  She will probably need to go back to doing some watching -- but never again as much as she needed to do six months ago.  My guess for her, is that as soon as she figures out that her new world is full of friends and love, she will blossom like her little shooting-star self.

As for Emerson, I think this is going to be harder than he realizes.  He thinks he's going back to his old life, which he views through vague and rosy-colored glasses, but his old life has changed, and he has changed even more.  I have tried to warn him of this in his prayers, by asking God to hold him through the hard times of transitioning back home.

And as for me?  I still don't know yet.