In only a few short hours I will be backing out of my drive way in Castlegar and on my way back to Kenya. I am so ready to go but I am terribly sad to be leaving my parents behind. My mother and I will be driving to Vancouver together over the next two days but this will be goodbye for my dad this morning. The tears haven't hit hard yet but the anticipation is killing us. Why does it have to be so hard? I guess I am blessed that my parents actually care and are extremely sad that I am leaving. Better than having parents who don't care what you are doing. I am so blessed.
My bags are pretty much packed and ready to go. I keep finding new things to stuff in them trying to reach my weight capacity. I am given 50lbs per bag and I want to use all the 50lbs if I can. I think I have done a pretty good job so far. I am getting pretty good at fitting my life into a suitcase.
This week has been wonderful. It hasn't been too stressful. I have been had to chance to say goodbye to most of my friends. I have had some precious time with my parents and some wonderful quiet time with God. I am just ready to go!
I got to have supper with my dear friend Amber. She used to babysit my brother and I and teach us piano when I was in elementary school. Then when I moved to vancouver to go to college, she moved in with me for a year. She made the transition to college life away from home so much easier. She taught me to eat well and keep the house clean and manage money. Now she has a new little apartment and a great new job. I am so grateful for her friendship.
We had a 6 week memorial for my Deda on Saturday. Doukhobors believe that 6 weeks after a person's death, their soul still remains on earth and then transitions into heaven. This belief comes from the timeline of when Jesus died on the cross and finally ascended into heaven. They have worked it out to be about 6 weeks.
The day of the memorial, we usually head to the gravesite for a small service of singing russian hymns and prayers and saying a few nice words about the deceased. Then we all join together and have a big lunch. We held the big lunch at our place and so my Baba and my mom were cooking all the food the night before. My Baba is so short, we put her on a stool.
A small gathering of friends and family at Deda's grave.
The graveyard hadn't been ploughed so we all had to hold onto each other as we trudged through the deep snow. Deda, the outdoors man that he was, would have been proud.
I came home after the service only to find my precious pup digging in all my clothes. I had washed, ironed and nicely folded them in preparation for packing but I guess she decided to wreck all my nice piles. Maybe she is just tell me how much she doesn't want me to go.
"I'm not moving!"