A hurting heart

As I type, my family and some of my friends are preparing to make the trip out to Winnsboro, South Carolina. They are getting dressed in their black and completing their outfit with a few tears, as today is the day when they will say their final goodbye to Jenni Caldwell Sharpe. Jenni was my cousin's husband, Heath's, sister. An interesting fact about me: I have two cousins: Shannon and Devin. When I go home for Christmas and summer, I stay with Shannon and Heath and their son, Tripp. Heath's parents often pop over to take care of Tripp or just say hi when they'd been out running errands, and we'd all sit and chat about SC, Alaska, and small babies.

I was not close with Jenni, but we have hung out a few times at various things. I have lived outside of SC for far too long to really gain new friendships there. She did everything to perfection, and everyone loved her for it. She always smiled, loved all things monogrammed, and absolutely adored her cute little son, John Ryan. I can still hear the excitement in her voice when she would talk about him. She was one of those people everyone liked and she cared for everyone as well...

I remember when she first got sick. Almost every conversation I had with Shannon after that included updates on Jenny. I knew she was sick; I just don't think I realized how sick. In my world, we live in a day and age where people my age beat cancer. They don't succumb to it. We have technology! And while everyone at first seemed a little scared, everyone also seemed so positive. And then she rang the bell, and everyone rejoiced. She had beat it. Whatever it was, it was done. Whew. We were so happy. We were all ready to move forward. And then Christmas day, something happened. And we learned it was not really gone.

And we were still positive.

I had no doubt Jenni would beat this again. She did everything right. She prayed at night (well all day really), she asked people to prayer for her, she has a loving, caring husband and is mom to a 2.5 year old that she can't just be taken away from. So when my mom told me that Jenni had died as I sat here about to go to sleep in Botswana, the world around me crumbled. None of it made sense. None of it still makes sense.

And my heart hurts. My heart hurts for everyone she leaves behind. For her mom and dad who should never have to go through this. For her husband who will struggle each day to find himself without her. For her son who will not remember just how lovely his mom truly was, or just how much she adored him. For Heath, who will want to call her up and can no longer hear his sister's voice whenever he wants... after being able to do so almost all of his life.

And my heart hurts for my cousin. It is so hard to know someone you care about deeply and love is hurting... and there is nothing you can do. Death is something you lean on everyone for, but it is still very personal and a time when you must work through the feeling to be able to move on. I wish I could be there, but she is strong and knows that Jenni had a great life. It still hurts though.

So, as I said on facebook, but this time without the picture, I will say again...

If you could say a little prayer today, send some love, whisper into your pillow, hug someone a little tighter, whatever you do to send sweet, loving thoughts into the world...

The girl to the left is my beautiful cousin Shannon Wilson Caldwell and next to her is her husband's sweet, kind, strong, loving sister, Jenni Caldwell Sharpe. Jenni unexpectedly lost a hard fought battle to cancer yesterday. This was something I never saw coming because everyone was always so positive and her strong family was so proactive with treatments, taking care of each other, smiles, etc. Her passing is a vivid reminder that life is precious, family is incredible, and love is abundant.

Prayers, hugs, love go out to all of the Caldwell (and I should add Sharpe) family.

Oh the stages...

So I'm starting to feel like a self-help book. Like I'm going through all the different stages one goes through when moving to a place completely opposite from what they know and love. I like I am finally in the 'acceptance' stage, if that really exists. My body may be adjusting to the temperature a little, I can sleep throughout the night only waking up one or two times, I know where to buy food I like and feel comfortable eating, and I have clean clothes to wear. These are all very good things.

I have met with my advisor multiple times and she is really great. She is eager to work with me and is beyond helpful. It is good to finally feel like things are starting to fall into place. I am beginning to realize while I thought I would be doing a lot of traveling and sight seeing, I am pretty sure these five months are going to be more research related than I thought. This idea excites me, and makes me grateful for the three week safari I went on in July. Since I have seen and done a lot of what there is to do in Botswana, I am ready to be focused on why I came here. I am sure I will travel plenty, but I came here to research, study, and write, and I'm happy to think I'm going to be given ample time to do all of that.

So... all that being said, this is what I have decided. I can no longer focus on the things I do not have: running water all the time (it cuts in and out, you never know when you will have it), air conditioner, my boyfriend, my puppy, my students, a washing machine, and more, I must start focusing on all that I will gain. And not only gain, I hope to work with teachers and leave a lot in return. I am excited for expectations and routine. I think I'm ready.

PS - Let it be noted that my stomach is NOT in the acceptance stage. Baby steps my friends!

First week in Gaborone

Looking back all I can say is wow. It's been quite a ride since I posted. And I wish I had posted more...

Life has changed a bit for me. My tales are no longer from the tundra for now. At the moment, I am sitting in a dorm room in Gaborone, Botswana sweating. Adele plays on the background and a fan circulates hot air around my room. My room is half the one I left in Point Hope, complete with a twin bed, desk, closet, and two bulletin boards reminding me I am back on campus. I share a kitchen and bathroom with five other people. And while I have been too hot to concentrate on anything but the sweat rolling down my body, I did write this last night about my first week here:

I miss pulling the covers up under my chin and feeling tucked in before drifting to sleep. I miss my dog instinctively knowing I'm getting ready for bed and jumping on my spot waiting to play and laugh one more time before the day ends. I miss sitting on my piano bench and bringing picture books to life as my students sit on their square on the rug eagerly waiting for me to turn the page. I miss my students laughter. I miss turning on the water facet and knowing water will flow. I miss the air conditioner. I miss my couch - sitting on one end, my dog in the middle, and the man I loved for four years sitting on the other end. How often would I gaze down at the three of us and smile knowing at that very moment, all was right in the world.

I miss so much about my little life in Point Hope. Everything made sense. And yet here I am. And I struggle. A lot. But I keep going because this part is not supposed to be easy. It's supposed to challenge me in ways I didn't think possible. It's supposed to challenge my thoughts, ground my values, and help me reflect on who I am as a teacher, researcher, and person. And so I write, from a dark, hot room with tears coming down, to tell you I am not ready. I still long for so much only the Arctic can provide. But this is going to start with or without me, and I refuse to let this part of my so-called life leave me behind.

So here goes nothing.

the man, the crazy dog, and the ice i left to come sweat and learn.

My goodbye to the south... landing in Atlanta before
boarding a plane to Johannesburg.

Kate (the other Fulbrighter here with me in Gabs) and I in the airport in Jo-burg. After 15+ hours on the flight, we are looking (and feeling!) good, right?! Get us to Botswana!

At a hash event (will explain more later) where I voluntarily ran (walked!) a 5k
in the hot, hot heat for cold beers afterwards :) 

Mustard in a stein is delicious!

More to come on my daily life here. Life is getting more routine here and the heat is residing a tiny bit (or maybe my body is adjusting) and I know the closest place to buy South African wine, so let the writing begin!