I'm leaving in 2 days. Tomorrow I will be going to the orphanage for the last time. I'm planning on losing 5 pounds in tears by the time I leave. My journal entry from June 6th pretty much sums up how I feel about a lot of things:
I feel like I need to write. Like if I don't--even the most spectacular moments will slip away from my memory just as quickly as my footsteps that were washed away by the sea. I've left no trace of my existence here. A lonely, introspective walk down the beach has left me pensive and unsociable. I've been thinking about how even if you do your best to make a difference, there will always be those opposed to your efforts and ideals. This opposition should never stop you or even slow you down though. It should instead be transformed into a driving force and a source of ambition.
Prove them wrong.
I walked along the beach and imagined baby dadum wadling alongside of me. Her tiny footsteps just as easily erased by the Atlantic.I thought about how much I will miss her chubby hand in mine, as well as her solemn, yet contented expression. She, however, will not remember me. She won't remember the time I kissed away her tears after she was smacked in the face by a soccer ball. She won't remember how I would walk backwards through the schoolyard, holding onto both of her hands and letting her feel that freedom of walking. No, she'll forgt about me just as quickly as I walk out that large green gate for the last time. I'm not really bothered by this though. I don't need her to remember me, but I need to remember her. I need to remember Blessing Omaboe and how he taught me the fragility of life. he wa abandoned at infancy just like me, and then tossed into a careless world. I, his "next of kin", will be forgotten. He won't remember me feeding him, changing his diapers, or taking him to the hospital countless times. I wonder if anyone will ever inform him of his market birth and soon-after abandonment. It's okay if they don't. He will be orphanage-toughened and handsome, with probably a few more scars than necessary. And I will love him, as his "next of kin", but from afar. I will always think of him as the dependent little baby he is now. I will miss him.
Yesterday I went to the orphanage to pay for the last bit of the tile. The other day, Emily told me that her and Emma (another volunteer) were going to put their money together to finish the tile. The amount of money they needed after they had put all of their avilable money in, was $160. Mom called me the other day to say that I got 2 checks in the mail and they amounted to $160. Crazy how things work out sometimes, huh.
Cassandra, my roommate, came with me to the orphanage yesterday. She picked up Dadum, her personal favorite, and carried the diaper-less little girl with us down the street so that I could purchase more diapers. We bought the diapers and then started walking back when all of a sudden I heard Cassie shriek. I'm not going to go into too much detail here for those of you who have a weak stomach...but I'll let you guess what happened. Cassie handled it like a champ though and surprisingly Dadum is still her favorite. She was walking down the street, holding Dadum out away from her body, and saying, "I am a mommy now, my baby just poo-pooed on me." I couldn't help but laugh and I'm just happy that she was able to laugh about the situation too.
Anyway, I better run. Be home soon! = )
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