Sunday, August 22, 2010

It’s in the little moments that life is lived

For the first time since I’ve been here, I am dreading Monday.

Tomorrow brings the start to my final week here in Haiti at the Hanger Clinic. These three months have enriched my life and I wouldn’t give them up, but the ending of something great in life is always hard. But, it’s the sadness you feel that lets you know that what you are leaving meant something. What’s uplifting about this though is that what we’ve done here will continue on. Jay Tew saw the creation of the clinic and initial training of technicians, etc., I was able to see the honing of the skills and carry on what Jay started, and Vern, the new lead prosthetist, will take over from here. I know he will do a fantastic job and the patients will definitely be well cared for.

Earlier today I said goodbye to my last group at the airport. The current rotation of volunteers we have now will be staying one week longer than me. The group that left today was made up of some wonderful guys from the German prosthetics company Medi, who has donated prosthetic components and shoes to the clinic. We had fun these last two weeks and I let my hair down just a bit too. For example, at the end of one of the days last week we had a typical Haitian downpour. It had been one of those hot, sticky, humid days. When the storm hit, all the patients were gone and work was done so we reverted to our childhood selves and went out and played in the rain. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. Here’s a picture of us soaking wet and having a ball:


People told me before I came that this experience would change my life and it has, but I’ve discovered that life changes everyday. I am not the same as I was yesterday and neither is anyone else. It’s in the little moments that life is lived. It’s that second when a patient you are walking with finally lets go of your hand and takes her first steps unassisted. It’s the goodbye wave as a patient drives away on the back of a motorcycle towards the rest of his life. It’s a smile from a grateful patient, a giggle from a child, experiences shared with colleagues, and the formations of friendships. This has been another season of life, one that I am grateful for and will look back on fondly. I still have one more week here and it begins with a dreaded Monday.