Back Home

It strikes me as surreal that Dats and I have been back from Haiti just three days.  How easy and comfortable it is to slip back into the day to day life I am used to.  But I discovered just over a week ago that it was just as easy for me to slip back into life at the mission and at Cowman School.  So which one is "Home"?

Dats was certainly feeling that tug of the heart in the direction of Haiti.  On Tuesday evening - our last night in Haiti... for now - he seemed restless.  At one point I thought maybe he had put himself to bed, but when I stood up I realized he was on the couch, apparently lost in silent thought.

He seemed to be procrastinating on going off to bed - sleep would only bring our final morning in Haiti that much faster.  Dats sat around looking like this:

The next morning I had the unpleasant job of being the timekeeper - the one to say (repeatedly), "Say your final goodbyes to the Bundys.  We need to get to breakfast because our ride to the airport leaves at 7:00."  It was 6:30 AM but the Bundy kids were on their back porch and so Dats was there too.  Jake was flat on his back and wrestling the puppies and Brianna was holding and kissing puppies and Alanna, in stocking feet, was dancing around the little piles of puppy messes (unsuccessfully!) and Dats was just soaking it in like he was trying to make a mental recording that would last at least until August.

The trip to the airport was smooth and we were happy to have the opportunity to ride in the back of the big truck, since Don was dropping us up and returning to the mission with a newly arrived team of seven or eight individuals and their luggage.

The flights themselves were uneventful.  At one point, Dats was looking a bit down and I asked, "So are you sad to be going home?"

He replied, "No, I am sad to be leaving Haiti.  There's a difference."

Indeed there is. 

Of course we had reunions to look forward to.  Melissa met us at the Indy airport bearing apple fritters ... and winter coats!

Grandma had the night off from work, so she stayed home with the kids - a good thing since we didn't walk in the front door until almost midnight.  All of Dats' siblings were sound asleep when we dropped our luggage in the living room.  But the light was on over the kitchen table and the table was covered in notes and drawings.

From The Drama Queen:

 

And The Princess:



"yiw are the besd DaD"

And another from The Princess:



I had to turn to the experienced kindergarten teacher for a translation: "Welcome back, Daddy. I missed you.  What about you?"
 

Ida left this one:

 

The P.S. says, "Come in my room when you get home. I might still be awake."

Mixed in with all the welcome home notes was this extra note from Ida:

 

 



The wad of dollar bills was all the money Melissa had paid him over the week I was gone!  (We don't usually pay for chores, but with me out of the house, Melissa wanted to maximize helpfulness and minimize complaints.  I thought it was pretty smart.)

Melissa stood at the table wiping tears from her cheeks.

And me?  In that moment I didn't feel so very far from Haiti.