Annual celebrations of all kinds.

It’s been a difficult week. After the news of my grandfather and feeling at a loss of words and ideas of what needs to be done and trying to hide tears from six-year olds, we are finally heading home. The best way I can ever cope with stress or anything upsetting is to throw myself into my work but there were so many moments when I had to stop and catch my breath. While walking to the town, little Julie told me she wanted to buy a present for her grandfather. What can you do but smile and ask what she wants to buy him? The kids and I were in a store when a young man approached me and started asking me, “Miss, what is your name? These can’t be your children, where are you from?” I tried to end the conversation and move along with the children but he persisted and it took a lot of self-control to not scream at him. I find myself clenching my teeth and telling myself to stop being sad. It’s life. Death is a part of life and it’s not like you haven’t seen it before. I loved my grandfather but I think that this is not the main thought causing this heavy stress. During this entire time, I keep thinking of my mother. When my grandfather was in the hospital before I left the States, I watched my mother cry and it hurt me more than anything. Out of anyone, I can’t stand to watch my parents cry.  If the logical chain of events is to take place, my parents are next to follow suit of my grandparents. I don’t want to see them suffer; I don’t want to see them die. Whatever emotional roller coaster I am going through in my life, they are there for me to provide some comfort and wisdom. I don’t even want to think about what comes next.

When I received the news of my grandfather, Dominka, one of the older girls hugged me and put her hand on mine and told me, “You know Ariana, you’re one of my role models. You’re so strong.” I had to laugh amongst the tears. Strong. Strength. What strength? Anisha said something similar to me when I was visiting her in Boston. I feel like over the past 3 years or so I have been dragging bags of sand and stone through miles of water. If strength is there, I don't really see it. Maybe it’s hidden under a thick layer of fat. Maybe strength is simply surviving and keeping your ahead above water.

Anyway, it’s my birthday. I’m officially twenty-five years old. Twenty-five years of pulling through and hopefully here’s to many more. I don't feel much like celebrating but I don't think it's wise to sit at home. So here’s to those who have left us and to those who are still with us, may we love them and hold them dear and always tell them that we love them because we may not have another chance to do so. I told the older kids that no matter what happens in life, whether good or bad what the most important thing is that we learn from these experiences. I hope that you all and I can keep this in mind and keep dragging those sandbags.