The tangle of emotions is beginning as we get closer to our departure date. Despite being a difficult season of life for me here in Bogota, there have been some moments and experiences that I have treasured. One of those is church each Sunday. Singing to God in Spanish brings joy and peace every single week. Greeting the people I have come to know and having baby conversations in stilted Spanish makes me happy throughout the week. As I was singing this Sunday it really hit me that this season of life will soon be over. I won't get to go to that church, with those people and sing those songs. I could feel my eyes welling up. I shook my head and told myself it was too soon to cry.
The next morning I was sitting in San Andrecito waiting for some movies. A guy with dreadlocks bounded up to me and greeted me with a kiss. His mother smiled brilliantly at me and we chatted for a bit. I don't know his name, I just call him "the dreadlock guy" from church. He is there every week with a huge smile lighting his face. I didn't realize the woman who radiantly greets me every week was his mother. I asked a friend from church about the connection. Yes, mother and son, and guess what? Our guitar teacher is his brother. A story began to unfold of a father who died of cancer, who was cared for in his last days by his son with a smile and gorgeous dreadlocks. It takes time to fit into a new place, for a church to become a family, for relationships to develop and grow. It takes time, but we are approaching the finish line.
The next morning I was sitting in San Andrecito waiting for some movies. A guy with dreadlocks bounded up to me and greeted me with a kiss. His mother smiled brilliantly at me and we chatted for a bit. I don't know his name, I just call him "the dreadlock guy" from church. He is there every week with a huge smile lighting his face. I didn't realize the woman who radiantly greets me every week was his mother. I asked a friend from church about the connection. Yes, mother and son, and guess what? Our guitar teacher is his brother. A story began to unfold of a father who died of cancer, who was cared for in his last days by his son with a smile and gorgeous dreadlocks. It takes time to fit into a new place, for a church to become a family, for relationships to develop and grow. It takes time, but we are approaching the finish line.
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