Changing Tempo

My days are filled with much love and happiness - without deadlines, time goes quickly without me knowing the date or the day. But the daily routine is still far from mundane. Adventures in the kitchen last the whole afternoon. Mornings are spent with God, with family, playing with Xave, learning his children's songs and always always being amazed at the things he learns each day. Evenings go by quickly too - movies with Tom, finding new places to eat, and learning new things about each other too. Domesticity suits me, me thinks.

It has been just a few months, but I feel like it has been much longer because I feel at home.

So much has happened back home too. That evening with TM was not enough for him to update me with everything that has happened since we left. The photos of the Enchanted Farm that are posted every so often on FB amaze me. The brochure that Karl made was super! Then there was the GK Hope Ball, the Expo and the relief operations for the Juan victims. Always something happening, always people moving, always a passionate bunch of people dancing to the beat of their hearts pounding to the same patriotic tune.

And it got me thinking. I wonder if my heart still beats the same way? Or has the tune changed because of the difference in lifestyle, the slowing down of the tempo?

That is an alarming thought that comes back to haunt me ever so often.

A few days before TM arrived, I picked up a copy of his book (the one that Tom had bought when we first met, the book that we now share, my only real copy). I skimmed through the pages, rereading the very familiar lines that I must have read at least one hundred times. I unconsciously marked the typos that were scattered across the book. But editing was not my intention this time.

The distance has made me feel a bit detached. And an unnecessary feeling of guilt creeps up.

I have given up everything. Yet feel like I have gained everything as well. And that's a good thing.

I wanted to read to remember. To remember what is happening back home. To feel what I can't feel when I read the news. I wanted to assure myself that I was not calloused to the needs of those left behind. That leaving is not an escape - just another way to reach our goal, another way to be our brothers' keeper.

*******

Spending the afternoon with George was amazing in itself. I love him. Listening to him was like reading the chapter "Patriots in Exile". His generosity was wild, treating me and my family to an evening in a suite across TM's. Taking us all to dinner, sharing his time and his stories with us as if we were his family too.

Crazy that he would take the time and the trouble to take care of us that way... that he would drive to the airport to get TM, that he would walk with us at midnight to grab a burger, that he would wake up early to feed TM and then take him to the airport too. Amazing.

He loves TM. The same way we all do.

*******

The room is quiet and I hear my heart beat. The pace has slowed down... but it's louder than ever.