Tomorrow will be the beginning of my last three months here at TLC. Time has flown. Its also have been slow. I can still remember vividly the time I met each of the kids. When I was trained in each of the sections and some days that feels like yesterday. Lately we have said goodbye to a lot of volunteers. At the end of next week we will be down to 8. (So if you or anyone of you knows someone who would love to come and love babies for a bit please come.)
Saying goodbye, taking fellow volunteers to the airport has started me thinking. Maybe worrying is a better word. In a few months that will be me. I’m not so scared of leaving this place and the babies. I know it will be hard and hurt a bit but I also know that other volunteers will come and love them and take care of them. TLC does a good job of that. LOVE.
What I'm frightened of or intimidated by or worried about it the after I get home. After Im unpacked. What happens next. I have spent a year loving babies and being the person they need to survive. I go home the only person who needs me is me. And, I’m not sure I like that.
I was explaining my worries to my mom about what is next and not knowing. She replied back that I am talented and something will come up. But, I don’t just want something. That sounds unimportant. I want to make a difference. I want to love and care and be someone people need.
I don’t want to go home and just live life. I want a life to live. I don’t want to get sucked into the mundane. To the ordinary. To the normal.
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