Danika turned 9 months old last week and she continues to amaze me with the way that she thinks. Sometimes I think she is wise beyond her months. I marvel in her innocence and always feel a little bit guilty about the fact that I’m 90% sure she has taught me more in 9 months than I feel I could possibly teach her in a lifetime (this I’m sure is a feeling that most first time parents can relate to).
This week Danika taught me the importance of contentment.
I have often contemplated if true contentment is ever really possible. In a world where we are always searching for something more, we are very rarely content with the place we are at, the money we are making, the people that surround us. We want more, more, more. And we have tricked ourselves into thinking that we actually need it to be happy. We can’t ever truly be content if we are always wondering, “What’s next?”
I watch Danika sit on the dirty wood floor in her diaper rolling a tiny piece of paper around and around in her fingers and realize that she has no concept of worth (in dollars anyways). Out of all of the toys that are sitting in front of her, she chooses a piece of paper. Her other favorite toy: a bottle of travel lotion that she will turn around moving from one hand to the next for as long as I let her. She sits on the floor amist dust, dirt, and various bugs, and looks up at me to show me her piece of paper as if she were sitting in a Royal Court with the Queen. She is completely and totally content.
She has taught me the main difference between children and adults is this: Children live in a world of pure contemplation. For them sights, sounds, and objects exist to be played with and enjoyed. For adults, sights, sounds, and objects exist solely to be used. We are dominated by responsibilities and therefore have lost the sense of contentment that we had when we were children.
Danika just recently learned how to clap. Now she claps for everything that she does, and everything that anyone else does. If you accomplish something, she will clap for you, and if she accomplishes something, she will clap for herself. How brilliant is that concept? She has figured out the balance of being happy for other people, while still being happy for yourself.
I am so proud of how well she has adjusted and adapted to her surroundings, and the loss of luxuries that she enjoyed so much just a short time ago. Yet she has never once felt sorry for herself here, she doesn’t even know how to. She is grateful for anything and everything you give her, even a little piece of paper. Her tubbies that used to be filled with warm water, bubbles, and bath toys, are now sometimes cold water out of a bucket in the back when the electricity goes out and I can’t heat up water on the stove. But she doesn’t mourn the loss of her “American” tubbies, she simply chooses to see it as a different opportunity for her to explore.
She catches her breath as I pour the cold water down her back and then squeals in excitement as she sees a family of chicks waddle past us.
I have searched my whole life for contentment, when all I have to do is spend one day looking at life through my daughter’s eyes.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
God bless the Mayo Clinic
The last time I was in Honduras I was fortunate enough not to have to use any medical facilities. As fate would have it, this time I was not so lucky. Suffering from a pretty nasty pain for the past couple of days, I decided to drop Danika off at her self-described Ti-Ti’s (Honduran speak for Auntie), and venture off to the local clinic. I left at what I thought was an early hour and finally arrived at around 7:30am. The clinic, called “Ms. Peggy’s Clinica” is run by an American Doctor and a couple of Honduran nurses. I figured this was my best bet as I knew that she would speak and understand English as my Spanish is still not what it should be yet.
The clinic is a small building with three rooms; a waiting room, an exam room, and a bathroom. When I arrived I found the waiting room over filled with sick children, women, and men. I went up to the clipboard sitting on a desk and signed my name. I looked around to see if I needed to do anything else, but apparently a name on the list is all that is required. I found a spot against a wall and looked around taking in my surroundings. Next to me was a baby not more than 5 months old with an open sore on his back, a little girl next to me that was crying from a pain that wasn’t visible, and a man with a foot that looked like it was probably broken. No one spoke any English, all were poor farmers and market workers. I felt immediately as if I had no justification for being there with my measley stomach pain and my designer sunglasses. I gave a silent thank you to the Lord for once again humbling me, and decided it would be more insulting if I walked out than if I waited with everyone else.
6 hours later, I completely and totally regretted my decision.
Finally I was called in, “Cornie Lenoz?” (for some reason my name is incredibly difficult for Spanish speakers to pronounce). I asked the nurse where Ms. Peggy was, and she told me from what I could understand that I just missed her and would be seeing the local Spanish doctor instead.
¨Of course I am..¨ I said to myself.
Six and a half hours after I had arrived, I left with a bag of vitamins that I had no idea what they were for, and I had to laugh at how much I use to complain about waiting for my appointment at the Mayo Clinic.
As I waited by the roadside for the next chicken bus to pass by, I paused in the moment feeling completely overwhelmed at how beautiful my life is.
I love those moments…
The clinic is a small building with three rooms; a waiting room, an exam room, and a bathroom. When I arrived I found the waiting room over filled with sick children, women, and men. I went up to the clipboard sitting on a desk and signed my name. I looked around to see if I needed to do anything else, but apparently a name on the list is all that is required. I found a spot against a wall and looked around taking in my surroundings. Next to me was a baby not more than 5 months old with an open sore on his back, a little girl next to me that was crying from a pain that wasn’t visible, and a man with a foot that looked like it was probably broken. No one spoke any English, all were poor farmers and market workers. I felt immediately as if I had no justification for being there with my measley stomach pain and my designer sunglasses. I gave a silent thank you to the Lord for once again humbling me, and decided it would be more insulting if I walked out than if I waited with everyone else.
6 hours later, I completely and totally regretted my decision.
Finally I was called in, “Cornie Lenoz?” (for some reason my name is incredibly difficult for Spanish speakers to pronounce). I asked the nurse where Ms. Peggy was, and she told me from what I could understand that I just missed her and would be seeing the local Spanish doctor instead.
¨Of course I am..¨ I said to myself.
Six and a half hours after I had arrived, I left with a bag of vitamins that I had no idea what they were for, and I had to laugh at how much I use to complain about waiting for my appointment at the Mayo Clinic.
As I waited by the roadside for the next chicken bus to pass by, I paused in the moment feeling completely overwhelmed at how beautiful my life is.
I love those moments…
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Saying Goodbye again...
I have found that my life has always played itself out in exactly the right order with exactly the right timing. If I have learned one thing in my 24 years, it is to give up control and just let things happen as the Lord wills it. In going with that, it just so happened that the week it worked out for me to come down was also the exact week my best friend Sarah and her husband and daughter were traveling through Roatan on a 6 week trip through Central America.
We spent the week together basking in the sun on the beach and in each other’s company, and I wouldn’t have traded one single moment for anything in the world.
Sarah has been through so many stages with me, and seen the many different people that I have been and become. We both have watched and nurtured each other to the people that we are today. But for the most part our friendship has been one-sided. Sarah has always been a shoulder for me, a warm place for me to turn to, a home that has always been open for me at anytime. She has sacrificed and given more than any other friend I have and has asked for nothing in return. For me to finally be able to welcome her and her family in my new home was a highly anticipated and beautiful moment.
We talked about whether or not Paradise was a place, a moment, or an experience extensively; and I can say nothing more about that week except that it was true paradise. I would love to share every story, every memory, but it is impossible to describe the feeling of complete and total happiness.
Martin, Sarah, and Kiera: To say goodbye to you for a second time felt like more than saying goodbye to a family that has become like my own, it was like saying goodbye to a chapter of my life that for now has been closed. You have shown me what it is truly like to be vulnerable and be okay with it. I will never be able to show you in words or even actions how much love I possess for your family. You have truly become a part of me.
Thank you for showing me paradise…
To see pics from that week visit www.thesawinskis.com
We spent the week together basking in the sun on the beach and in each other’s company, and I wouldn’t have traded one single moment for anything in the world.
Sarah has been through so many stages with me, and seen the many different people that I have been and become. We both have watched and nurtured each other to the people that we are today. But for the most part our friendship has been one-sided. Sarah has always been a shoulder for me, a warm place for me to turn to, a home that has always been open for me at anytime. She has sacrificed and given more than any other friend I have and has asked for nothing in return. For me to finally be able to welcome her and her family in my new home was a highly anticipated and beautiful moment.
We talked about whether or not Paradise was a place, a moment, or an experience extensively; and I can say nothing more about that week except that it was true paradise. I would love to share every story, every memory, but it is impossible to describe the feeling of complete and total happiness.
Martin, Sarah, and Kiera: To say goodbye to you for a second time felt like more than saying goodbye to a family that has become like my own, it was like saying goodbye to a chapter of my life that for now has been closed. You have shown me what it is truly like to be vulnerable and be okay with it. I will never be able to show you in words or even actions how much love I possess for your family. You have truly become a part of me.
Thank you for showing me paradise…
To see pics from that week visit www.thesawinskis.com
THE INCOMPARABLE HONDURAN POLICE FORCE
I was hoping very seriously to go at least a few months before having a run in with one of Honduras’ many corruptions. Specifically the most powerful of them all: the Police. But alas, this was not to be as I only made it exactly 1 ½ weeks.
A friend had picked Danika and I up from West End (the “touristy” area of Roatan) after a day at the beach with the Sawinskis. We were driving home in the dark and were passed by a truck carrying 10 policemen with guns. In the States when a policemen passes you, you may feel a little twinge of panic until the car is safely out of sight, but for the most part if you did nothing wrong you can have faith in the fact that your life will not be affected. In Honduras, this is not the case. Not two seconds after the truck had passed us, it whipped around, raced in front of us and stopped abruptly, creating a road block. All 10 policemen jumped out of the truck and ran at us with guns pointing straight at us. I looked at my friend in complete panic and he told me to stay in the truck. Two policemen opened the driver side door and pulled my friend out and threw him on the ground, gun to his head. The police on my side were yelling in Spanish for me to “Get out of the truck! Get out of the truck!” I didn’t even have time to open the door before they whipped it open for me and pulled me out, Danika in my arms. My fear turned to anger as I struggled to find the words in Spanish to “get the gun away from my baby!” Instead it just came out “Mi hija Senor! Mi hija!” We spent the rest of the night being interrogated at the Police Station, the reason we were even pulled over still not known to us. The night ended with us finding a ride home after everything was compenscated, including Danika’s sippy cup.
Later we were both cleared of any “wrong doing” and our things returned to us. I would love to say that the chances of something like that happening again are one in a million, but unfortunately when you have a group of corrupt people who are then given power and control over the general public with virtually no repercussions for their actions, this is what you get.
To prove my point; the very next day my friend was street racing his motorcycle, and was pulled over by the police, and rightfully so. His way out of a ticket: he bought the officers beers at the next bar.
A friend had picked Danika and I up from West End (the “touristy” area of Roatan) after a day at the beach with the Sawinskis. We were driving home in the dark and were passed by a truck carrying 10 policemen with guns. In the States when a policemen passes you, you may feel a little twinge of panic until the car is safely out of sight, but for the most part if you did nothing wrong you can have faith in the fact that your life will not be affected. In Honduras, this is not the case. Not two seconds after the truck had passed us, it whipped around, raced in front of us and stopped abruptly, creating a road block. All 10 policemen jumped out of the truck and ran at us with guns pointing straight at us. I looked at my friend in complete panic and he told me to stay in the truck. Two policemen opened the driver side door and pulled my friend out and threw him on the ground, gun to his head. The police on my side were yelling in Spanish for me to “Get out of the truck! Get out of the truck!” I didn’t even have time to open the door before they whipped it open for me and pulled me out, Danika in my arms. My fear turned to anger as I struggled to find the words in Spanish to “get the gun away from my baby!” Instead it just came out “Mi hija Senor! Mi hija!” We spent the rest of the night being interrogated at the Police Station, the reason we were even pulled over still not known to us. The night ended with us finding a ride home after everything was compenscated, including Danika’s sippy cup.
Later we were both cleared of any “wrong doing” and our things returned to us. I would love to say that the chances of something like that happening again are one in a million, but unfortunately when you have a group of corrupt people who are then given power and control over the general public with virtually no repercussions for their actions, this is what you get.
To prove my point; the very next day my friend was street racing his motorcycle, and was pulled over by the police, and rightfully so. His way out of a ticket: he bought the officers beers at the next bar.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
BATHING BY BUCKET: BACK TO THE BASICS
When I asked him if there was any special tricks to the shower, he laughed and replied, “Yeah, see that bucket of water? Start bailing”.
After the initial shock, I am now completely convinced that I was born to bathe by bucket, to peel clothes off when the electricity cuts (almost everyday) and the fan goes off, to throw my toilet paper in the basket instead of the bowl because the septic system isn’t strong enough, to collect rain water when the faucet turns off, to heat water by stove to bathe my daughter at night, to try and avoid one of the many palm sized spiders that reside in the house, to bargain for dinner at the market, to ride a chicken bus filled with 15 too many people with my daughter sitting not in a carseat but happily in my lap.
I have finally learned to find luxury in simplicity.
When I asked him if there was any special tricks to the shower, he laughed and replied, “Yeah, see that bucket of water? Start bailing”.
After the initial shock, I am now completely convinced that I was born to bathe by bucket, to peel clothes off when the electricity cuts (almost everyday) and the fan goes off, to throw my toilet paper in the basket instead of the bowl because the septic system isn’t strong enough, to collect rain water when the faucet turns off, to heat water by stove to bathe my daughter at night, to try and avoid one of the many palm sized spiders that reside in the house, to bargain for dinner at the market, to ride a chicken bus filled with 15 too many people with my daughter sitting not in a carseat but happily in my lap.
I have finally learned to find luxury in simplicity.
HERE WE GO AGAIN…
As soon as I heard the jumbled English/Creo voice yelling, “You wit de baby, Ay! You wit de baby, I got you okay?” as I’m standing in a line of 100 something people sweating all of my carefully applied makeup and laughing at the fact that I even attempted to reapply deodrant, I knew that this was if nothing else, definitely going to be an adventure.
So here I am, with my 8 suitcases of “everything I own” and a baby that doesn’t want to sit in her stroller running through all of the reasons that this was a good idea through my head for the millionith time. (Somehow the more times you say it, the more convincing it is). The man turned out to be someone had been hired to help me with my luggage, and I felt an instant reassurance that everything would somehow be okay. I looked around taking in the irony that I felt more at place admist the Honduran hustlers trying to make a few bucks helping tourists with their luggage, than the plane ride full of upper class white Americans complaining that there “better be air-conditioning in our hotel” with their polo shirts and matching straw hats.
A half hour later, luggage in tow, I crossed the point of no return and officially stepped out into the country that was to now be my home for as long as we could stand each other. It is such a different feeling to look at a place from the perspective of a “resident” than a tourist. Instead of looking for the cheapest beer, I am looking for the cheapest nanny. Instead looking for a hostel that’s close to the beach, I’m looking for an apartment with running water. There was an instant connection between Honduras and I last time around, and although it had been over 2 years my heart lept across the gap as if a moment hadn’t passed between us. Like a long lost lover reunited, I hoped and prayed that Danika would develop a relationship with this beautiful place as I had.
The next few days go by in a blur as I struggle to transition from American-visitor to American-“why would you leave all of that for this?” (The most popular question I get when any topic revolving around money, the economy, employment, schooling, air conditioning, running water, men, or honey comes up). I watch Danika carefully as the realization that this isn’t just a vacation starts to set in, and wish she could express in words what she feels when she looks at me. I ask her at least a thousand times a day, “Do you like it here? Do you want to stay?” as if she will answer me. She just looks at me and smiles like the angel she is. I crave the intense confindence that comes from exploring by yourself, but am rooted in one spot for now as I wait for “life” to begin in the form of employment, an apartment, a nanny, etc. (It’s funny to me that I left the States to get away from being sucked into the trap of a meaningless 9-5 and missing my daughter’s life only to come here and anxiously await the day when I start a 9-5 and find a nanny). I am so grateful for kindness of those who know almost nothing about me, but have taken me into their homes and hearts regardless. I battle daily with the want to be independent and do things for myself and the need to slow down and enjoy each moment as it comes.
On the 4th day I finally I make it back to the place where this great love affair with Honduras began: the beach. West Bay may easily be the most beautiful place that I have ever seen, and I fell back in love in an instant. This day would also mark the first time that I truly forgave myself for taking Danika away from her family and her home and bringing her to such a different and foriegn environment. She squealed with delight at the water and kicked her feet furiously, fussing when I took her out of the water after 3 hours of playing. She smiled and flirted with every stranger that would dare look her way, and looked at me with complete and total love and trust in her eyes. She was happy. I took in the moment of the sun going down over the clear, green, Carribbean Sea as my daughter, my life, sipped on her coconut water and played in the sand. And after a year and a half, my heart was still.
As soon as I heard the jumbled English/Creo voice yelling, “You wit de baby, Ay! You wit de baby, I got you okay?” as I’m standing in a line of 100 something people sweating all of my carefully applied makeup and laughing at the fact that I even attempted to reapply deodrant, I knew that this was if nothing else, definitely going to be an adventure.
So here I am, with my 8 suitcases of “everything I own” and a baby that doesn’t want to sit in her stroller running through all of the reasons that this was a good idea through my head for the millionith time. (Somehow the more times you say it, the more convincing it is). The man turned out to be someone had been hired to help me with my luggage, and I felt an instant reassurance that everything would somehow be okay. I looked around taking in the irony that I felt more at place admist the Honduran hustlers trying to make a few bucks helping tourists with their luggage, than the plane ride full of upper class white Americans complaining that there “better be air-conditioning in our hotel” with their polo shirts and matching straw hats.
A half hour later, luggage in tow, I crossed the point of no return and officially stepped out into the country that was to now be my home for as long as we could stand each other. It is such a different feeling to look at a place from the perspective of a “resident” than a tourist. Instead of looking for the cheapest beer, I am looking for the cheapest nanny. Instead looking for a hostel that’s close to the beach, I’m looking for an apartment with running water. There was an instant connection between Honduras and I last time around, and although it had been over 2 years my heart lept across the gap as if a moment hadn’t passed between us. Like a long lost lover reunited, I hoped and prayed that Danika would develop a relationship with this beautiful place as I had.
The next few days go by in a blur as I struggle to transition from American-visitor to American-“why would you leave all of that for this?” (The most popular question I get when any topic revolving around money, the economy, employment, schooling, air conditioning, running water, men, or honey comes up). I watch Danika carefully as the realization that this isn’t just a vacation starts to set in, and wish she could express in words what she feels when she looks at me. I ask her at least a thousand times a day, “Do you like it here? Do you want to stay?” as if she will answer me. She just looks at me and smiles like the angel she is. I crave the intense confindence that comes from exploring by yourself, but am rooted in one spot for now as I wait for “life” to begin in the form of employment, an apartment, a nanny, etc. (It’s funny to me that I left the States to get away from being sucked into the trap of a meaningless 9-5 and missing my daughter’s life only to come here and anxiously await the day when I start a 9-5 and find a nanny). I am so grateful for kindness of those who know almost nothing about me, but have taken me into their homes and hearts regardless. I battle daily with the want to be independent and do things for myself and the need to slow down and enjoy each moment as it comes.
On the 4th day I finally I make it back to the place where this great love affair with Honduras began: the beach. West Bay may easily be the most beautiful place that I have ever seen, and I fell back in love in an instant. This day would also mark the first time that I truly forgave myself for taking Danika away from her family and her home and bringing her to such a different and foriegn environment. She squealed with delight at the water and kicked her feet furiously, fussing when I took her out of the water after 3 hours of playing. She smiled and flirted with every stranger that would dare look her way, and looked at me with complete and total love and trust in her eyes. She was happy. I took in the moment of the sun going down over the clear, green, Carribbean Sea as my daughter, my life, sipped on her coconut water and played in the sand. And after a year and a half, my heart was still.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Here we go again
Hey all!
Sorry so long for an update, I have been recording all of our adventures on my laptop, but haven't had internet connection. I stopped at a little internet cafe by the beach just to let everyone know that we are alive and well. Danika has found herself here, and really shown her personality. Guess she was always an island girl at heart :)
I have fell back in love with this place all over again, and although it has been almost 3 years, my heart has lept across the gap as if we never left. It has been amazing, and to watch Danika play with the kids here makes my heart weep with joy. Neither one understands yet that there is a language barrier (most people only speak Spanish here) and play with each other in giggles and noises. She has been exposed to so much culture and learned so much already. I truly have seen the work that the Lord is capable of.
I have more to say, but unfortunately no time to say it right now. I will update more thoroughly when I get internet connection.
I love you all.
Life is SOOOO good.
Sorry so long for an update, I have been recording all of our adventures on my laptop, but haven't had internet connection. I stopped at a little internet cafe by the beach just to let everyone know that we are alive and well. Danika has found herself here, and really shown her personality. Guess she was always an island girl at heart :)
I have fell back in love with this place all over again, and although it has been almost 3 years, my heart has lept across the gap as if we never left. It has been amazing, and to watch Danika play with the kids here makes my heart weep with joy. Neither one understands yet that there is a language barrier (most people only speak Spanish here) and play with each other in giggles and noises. She has been exposed to so much culture and learned so much already. I truly have seen the work that the Lord is capable of.
I have more to say, but unfortunately no time to say it right now. I will update more thoroughly when I get internet connection.
I love you all.
Life is SOOOO good.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
I've never been that Good at Goodbyes...
I've never really been one for emotional conversations, and I'm absolutely horrid at goodbyes.
So at the risk of being a coward, I decided to tell the people who mean the most to me how I feel in the most impersonal way...via blog. To those I have listed, please forgive me. To those I forgot, please forgive me twice.
Lisa and the Zamzows: Thank you for loving Danika so much. You are truly irreplaceable.
Ben: I hope that you find whatever it is that will make your heart content. You will always be my "best friend". Miles cannot compete with the love I have for you. We have been through it all it seems, and still keep going strong. Never lose your swagger. :)
Deanna: Please take care of yourself, you are worth so much more than you know. I hope that the rest of the world can see what I have seen. You are a beautiful, talented, wonderful young woman. Don't let anyone take that away from you.
Jen: I don't even know where to start. You are my rock, sister. I am so proud of you and your journey, the United States just isn't big enough for people like you. Africa will never be the same once you're done with them.
Sarah: You are my inspiration, my shoulder, and my companion. Your family will always have a home with me, as you have shown me that there is no country where your love doesn't reach. I love you so much, and cherish all the chapters we have already written together.
Paul: I heard every word you said, and more importantly, every word you didn't say. I hope that you receive all that you deserve, and most of all, I hope for one more try. You have no idea all that you have taught me. I have never for a day not felt like a queen with you. Don't lose yourself in the quest to find what you are looking for.
Heather: You have known every single person that I have ever been, and still love me. Your loyalty to me and our friendship as been astounding. You never fail to amaze me with your unwaivering faith in the person that you are, and are meant to be. I hope with all my heart that our paths will cross in the near future.
Quinisha, Heather, and Sonia: You ladies have been my main girls for the past year. You were all there for a very vulnerable part of my life, and there as I grew back into the person that I was meant to be. You all have a home with me whenever you want to cash in the offer. It has been an honor to be in the presence of three of the strongest females that I have known. You came into my life at exactly the right moment, and each taught me exactly the right lesson that I needed to learn. I am in your corner always.
Tonya: My baby sister...where to start. I would like to say that you are more of a friend than a sister, but I think that would take away from the depth of us. We are sisters, and no one can ever touch that. I love you so much and wish that I could take on all that you are, but I have faith in you and can't wait for the day when you see the person that I see. You are in control of your own destiny Ton, so take the wheel.
Mom and Dad: You will never know how hard it was to walk away from you in the airport. You have supported every decision that I have made, and even the decisions that made me. Most importantly, you have ALWAYS allowed me to be me, you have never tried to change the person that I am. You have loved me through all of my stages, and phases. You accepted the people that I have brought into my life, and let me learn my own lessons, all while standing in my corner. The past year and some months have been amazing, I don't regret or feel ashamed for a single day. You have taken on the role of Grandma and Grandpa, and made it into something even more special than the name itself. You have meant everything to Danika and I, and the fact that I have the strength and courage to take on the world and go on a journey such as this shows you what great parents you are. To have a child who is not afraid to experience life is the highest compliment you can receive as a parent because that child knows no matter what they can always come back. Thank you for always letting me come back...
I love you both a hundred thousand times more than I tell you.
To the rest of my family: I love you all and thank you for supporting my journey. The Lord's Kingdom is vast and wide, I have seen such an amazing corner of it, and now I can't wait to see the rest. I will be back, but until then, please keep us in your thoughts and prayers, as you will be in mine.
All of you have contributed in your own way to my journey thus far. I can only hope that I have meant a fraction to you as what you have meant to me.
Life is good.
So at the risk of being a coward, I decided to tell the people who mean the most to me how I feel in the most impersonal way...via blog. To those I have listed, please forgive me. To those I forgot, please forgive me twice.
Lisa and the Zamzows: Thank you for loving Danika so much. You are truly irreplaceable.
Ben: I hope that you find whatever it is that will make your heart content. You will always be my "best friend". Miles cannot compete with the love I have for you. We have been through it all it seems, and still keep going strong. Never lose your swagger. :)
Deanna: Please take care of yourself, you are worth so much more than you know. I hope that the rest of the world can see what I have seen. You are a beautiful, talented, wonderful young woman. Don't let anyone take that away from you.
Jen: I don't even know where to start. You are my rock, sister. I am so proud of you and your journey, the United States just isn't big enough for people like you. Africa will never be the same once you're done with them.
Sarah: You are my inspiration, my shoulder, and my companion. Your family will always have a home with me, as you have shown me that there is no country where your love doesn't reach. I love you so much, and cherish all the chapters we have already written together.
Paul: I heard every word you said, and more importantly, every word you didn't say. I hope that you receive all that you deserve, and most of all, I hope for one more try. You have no idea all that you have taught me. I have never for a day not felt like a queen with you. Don't lose yourself in the quest to find what you are looking for.
Heather: You have known every single person that I have ever been, and still love me. Your loyalty to me and our friendship as been astounding. You never fail to amaze me with your unwaivering faith in the person that you are, and are meant to be. I hope with all my heart that our paths will cross in the near future.
Quinisha, Heather, and Sonia: You ladies have been my main girls for the past year. You were all there for a very vulnerable part of my life, and there as I grew back into the person that I was meant to be. You all have a home with me whenever you want to cash in the offer. It has been an honor to be in the presence of three of the strongest females that I have known. You came into my life at exactly the right moment, and each taught me exactly the right lesson that I needed to learn. I am in your corner always.
Tonya: My baby sister...where to start. I would like to say that you are more of a friend than a sister, but I think that would take away from the depth of us. We are sisters, and no one can ever touch that. I love you so much and wish that I could take on all that you are, but I have faith in you and can't wait for the day when you see the person that I see. You are in control of your own destiny Ton, so take the wheel.
Mom and Dad: You will never know how hard it was to walk away from you in the airport. You have supported every decision that I have made, and even the decisions that made me. Most importantly, you have ALWAYS allowed me to be me, you have never tried to change the person that I am. You have loved me through all of my stages, and phases. You accepted the people that I have brought into my life, and let me learn my own lessons, all while standing in my corner. The past year and some months have been amazing, I don't regret or feel ashamed for a single day. You have taken on the role of Grandma and Grandpa, and made it into something even more special than the name itself. You have meant everything to Danika and I, and the fact that I have the strength and courage to take on the world and go on a journey such as this shows you what great parents you are. To have a child who is not afraid to experience life is the highest compliment you can receive as a parent because that child knows no matter what they can always come back. Thank you for always letting me come back...
I love you both a hundred thousand times more than I tell you.
To the rest of my family: I love you all and thank you for supporting my journey. The Lord's Kingdom is vast and wide, I have seen such an amazing corner of it, and now I can't wait to see the rest. I will be back, but until then, please keep us in your thoughts and prayers, as you will be in mine.
All of you have contributed in your own way to my journey thus far. I can only hope that I have meant a fraction to you as what you have meant to me.
Life is good.
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