I leave in 6 days.
I will cross an entire ocean in a plane. I will visit two continents before I come home. My children will not be in either of them.
I am experiencing a bit of anxiety. In fact, more than I thought.
My husband will cook for them. He will prepare healthy meals. Some of those meals will even include organic produce. Their laundry will be washed and folded by him or Bobby and Adrienne (our part-time nannies).
They will receive handwritten notes from me, published blog posts and a visit from a few of my friends. I will call them from a very remote area.
Many of my friends say that they will be fine and I agree. They will be fine.
I am the one who is a basket case.
Do you know what I have been telling myself? Do you know the Xanax to my maternal panic attacks?
2.4 million orphans in the country of Uganda due to HIV/AIDS. So many mothers and fathers gone.
I have the gift and the opportunity to leave love notes. I imagine, that so many would have loved to have been able to plan better for their deaths. No parent hopes for a death that will impoverish their entire family and leave children hungry. We hope with bated breath that our babies will live long, full and successful existences. We hope that we will die first after preparing them for life.
When life smashes the glass, we do our best to deal with the circumstances we have been dealt. Dealing can leave so much to be desired, even when parents are at their very best.
I keep thinking that I am a love letter.
I keep thinking that if my children were left with no one, I would want a loving stranger to step in. I would want an organization like Nyaka to work hard to serve them. I would want teachers to be thought of as family. I would want donors to see value in lives that have no connection to their own.
The Nyaka AIDS Orphans Project is a love letter.
It is lives smashed like glass and dealing at its very best. It is wear empty meets full.
I hate leaving my own children. I question getting a job regularly. Even this job. I wonder if it is worth it. If the little bit I do on a daily basis is enough for the school presentations I miss or the spring break I won’t be a part of this year.
Then I think about how I tell my children…
I loved you before I knew you.
I think about all of the notes on their bathroom mirrors, secretly tucked in uniform pants pockets and written on windows.
I am a blessed woman and I will take a different kind of love note with me this time.