Final Days

Three months ago, I was hit hard with a case of “senioritis”. I could just taste the fresh blueberries and smell the scent of Tide after a fresh load of laundry just out of the dryer. So why is it with one month left, all I feel is sadness? Of course, I am still excited to be home, but somehow I’m coming back with another home to think about and miss.

The past two years have certainly been unforgettable. We learned how to farm, how to how to teach English, how to speak Bemba and Swaka, how to start a library, how to become very comfortable using a hole in the ground, and, most importantly, how to eat nshima! But we’ve also learned how to work with people who are very different from us, how to give thanks with deed instead of word, how to sit in silence and simply appreciate company, and how to truly value the seemingly small victories in life.

With one month left in our beautiful village, all the frustrations just don’t seem to matter anymore. I’ve stopped looking at my watch as much. Maybe if I don’t know the time, it will slow down so I can enjoy these precious moments longer. I’ve started to journal daily. Maybe if I can write it down it won’t escape so fast. Mostly, I’ve been thinking about gratitude; gratitude for my Zambian family whom I will always cherish, gratitude for my dear husband who helped me through the whole way, and gratitude for a life-changing experience.