Friday

Friday, the 28th

Father wanted us up and ready by Friday at 9 so that we could go and figure out what needed to be done.  Our hearing was at noon, so we just kind of hung out.  I knew I needed a place to stay in the capital for the week so I could get the passport started and get my bearings straight on what needs to be done, if in fact they rule in our favor.

We did a few touristy things, like go to the craft market while we sat around and waited for our ruling to be announced.  I had ended up finally getting in contact with someone at 882 Terrace, a hopefully quaint and small bed and breakfast, close to everything in the Capital.  But this, like the Emmaus house was suggested to us, so I will not know for a few days if it was all that people said it was.  Our last suggestion that we tried was a disaster.  I ended up telling the lady over the phone that I would be there in a minute to check the place out.  Father Michael agreed that the safety and security seemed fine, but that I should call him if anything is amiss and he will come and save me from my stupid mistakes.

After dumping all of our bags, we drove around so Paul could witness real traffic.  We stopped to get gas, and then went back to Café Javas for lunch – Paul’s last real meal for 2 days as he goes home.  While we were there, we were all anxiously checking out phones for a message or text from Linda or Isaac.   I actually was not worried about being given Michael.  I was just confident that it would happen.  I was more upset about Paul leaving me here in Uganda for the next up to 10-12 weeks.  Please, dear God, forbid it last that long.  But it very well could, so my job is to put on a straight face.

The worst part was when I called to tell the kids that we got Michael, and I heard Anna’s sweet little voice yelling, “I love you mommy, I miss you mommy, come home mommy.”  I was caught between wanting to just hang up because every time I hear it, it is like my heart being ripped out, and wanting to just sob and punch Paul in the face and steal his ticket and head to the car that was waiting for him in the parking lot.  Yes, he needs to get back to his paying job – I am just the silly girl that plays homemaker, but Anna wants her mom.  That should count for something.

And I knew this day would come, but I just refused to think about it.  Alone, with a child who likes Paul more than me, in a place I do not know, with no transportation of my own, at the whim and will of a government whose language I do not understand, from a country that just threatened to pull aid from the country that I am currently in.  I am in a country that signed an anti-pornography law last year that is completely open ended, and have been reading in the paper how women, by themselves, are being assaulted by cops if their attitude or clothing was in the least bit suggestive, and they do not have to have a reason.  Women are having all of their clothes ripped off on street corners because they are dressing to elicit reactions from men, and then beaten.  I know chances are small that this could happen, that people could retaliate for our own government’s policy, could threaten to do me harm, but I have absolutely no safety net.  Nobody who can talk me in or out of anything like Father Michael could.  Nobody bigger and stronger like Paul. 

I am alone, and that terrifies me. I throw up every day, or spend the day feeling completely sick.  To avoid being sick while we are driving around, where there are no bathrooms, I avoid eating and drinking until early morning or at night.  The lack of eating and drinking during the day on top of how loud Uganda is at night (if not the birds and insects, then the parties and gatherings) leaves me tired.  But here I am caring for a child I cannot communicate with, in a hot sweaty hotel room, with my stomach churning.

Notes from my prayer journal:  I think it speaks for itself, there are non thoughts that are too glamorous on this day.

“Do not despise he Lord’s discipline and do not resent his rebuke, because the Lord disciplines those He loves, as a father the son delights in.”

-Proverbs 3:11-12

Soundtrack song of the day:   Let her go – Passenger
Consecration to Jesus through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, Who are you, O Immaculate Conception, part 1, Day 9

Fr. Michael was right and wrong. Benny will be a child of the people, Auburn and Alabama. This is his orange and blue elephant from the craft market. He rid receive a rather embarrassing injury when Benny Michael decided that tails are for sissy elephants, and off it came.

Letter to myself

I know that I should be able to do this.  But having Paul here has been so nice, and it is the no known end date that breaks me – kills me really.  I am a doer.  I need a to-do list, goals, deadlines, etc.  Not having a deadline leaves my poor ADD brain in a spin zone and there is nothing to brace it down.  I cannot cope with no focus, without a calendar full of “Due By” dates. 

So in order to cope, and organize my brain, I wrote a letter to myself, after Paul left.

Dear Pansy Whiner

Who in their right mind let whiner Allison out of the freaking box?  Oh, is she the one puking right now?!?  Well how about this…how about you switch places?  I want the bad ass who was like, “Go to Africa? Yes Please!!!”

I do not want the girl that can’t stop boo-hooing that she is all alone, that she misses her babies, that she will be here forever.  So what if your husband could not have been happier to leave, and that he gets to be with the kids at home, while you are here.  Sure, he gets hugs and kisses and be cuddled, but you get malaria pills and protein bars and a child that won’t say mommy and that likes to smack you. 

That Allison, the PA loser Allison needs to be the one getting sick.  She is an embarrassment to Universal Mortification.  Your job is to take all of this garbage, and these feelings and offer it up, not sit in front of your computer screen with sad pathetic tears rolling down your already sweat stained cheeks. You are supposed to take all of these horrible feelings and look up to God and smile and say thank you for these awesome crosses that show just how much faith you have in me. 

You see that puff cheeked doll who is laying on the bed?!?  That is your reward.  That book of prayer intentions in your back pack?!?  That is your reward.  Any sacrifice offered to glorify the kingdom of God shall be met with an even greater reward so stop being a whiny little baby, pull up your big girl pants, wipe off your disgustingly dirty face, reapply your mosquito spray, take your puke pill and shut the hell up.  What a completely pathetic waste you will turn out to be if you ruin this time to bond with Michael, to offer up your sufferings for others.  Why waste your love and quiet time on being insanely jealous of your husband and his ticket home.  So what if you feel empty without him, and your children here?  Use that to release a thousand souls from purgatory!!! 

Go ahead and pray your chaplet at 3 PM every day.  Beg God to make this time short and effectual.  But in the meantime, do some good with the time you have.  Everything is a gift from Him.  You MUST see the remainder of this trip as just that.  Praise Him for His wisdom.  Next time you throw up, look up and say “Thank you, can I please do this again tomorrow?”  Easier said than done, but this is the only way you will survive and stay sane.

Paul and your children need you to get through this.  People are counting on your prayers and your sacrifices.  Stay focused on Him and His will and you will be done soon.

Love

Your cuter, smarter self

“You will keep in perfect peace, him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you.”

-Isaiah 26:3