Last Post for this Chapter

Dragon fruit plant

   For my last Saturday in Thailand I got to do something that is fast becoming one of my favorite things. I got to take a truck up a mountain and visit with the villagers at the top. I love that. I love the beauty of the clouds and hills. I love the green of the fields and trees. I love the uncrowded, unpolluted, simplicity of mountain life. I love sitting around on the floor of the huts, salas, and three-sided buildings. I love eating dragon fruit and bananas right off the tree. I love the kindness of villagers, and stopping speak with a woman on her way home from work in the fields with two children in tow. I love the afternoon snack of boiled sticky rice mixed with coconut milk, peanuts, red bananas, and sugar.

   It has been such a privilege to have the opportunity these last few months to meet so many sweet people and get to share life with them, if even for a short time. Uncle, the man we went to visit yesterday is about 70 years old, paralyzed, and alone. He has no relatives, no children, no friends really. He lies on the floor of a shack with three sides. He calls out to those walking past when he is hungry. He has laid without being washed for about four years. On our first visit to care for him we found him surrounded by smelly old clothes and filth. We bathed him, cut his hair, clipped his nails, and changed his clothes and bedding. A sweet co-worker and friend of mine used her nursing skills to assess and care for him. He seemed to be pleased with the outcome and feeling refreshed. A co-worker of ours, native to this village, who had a heart to help this man arranged with the village leaders for a volunteer to come once or twice a week to wash this sweet man and clean his hut.

   This trip was to check on his progress and whether the caregivers were feeling okay with how things were going. Uncle seemed much more engaged this visit. He kept reaching out to hold our hands. He spoke in Shan to our co-worker who translated for us. He said that he was so happy we came back to visit, he said that he feels good but a bit lonely, he doesn't have many visitors. When he heard that we were coming to visit he was very excited. He even asked that we cut his hair again. So, we clipped his toenails, checked for skin break down at pressure points, cut his hair, and smiled often. He delighted in attention, in people who made a special trip up the mountain just to see him. He enjoyed feeling like he mattered to someone in the world. I didn't want to leave him... there... alone. I wonder at his story, where he came from, who he is inside.

   "It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." At the end of my time in this place, saying goodbye to people dear to my heart I still say, "It is better to have loved." Because we loved...leaving hurts. Because we loved, the thought of not seeing our kids grow up hurts. Because we loved...the tears fall as we say goodbye. The pain means that we loved. However, that love is not lost. It is held in the hearts of everyone who received it. Maybe they won't remember us for long, but hopefully they will remember that they are loved. Maybe that paralyzed man won't remember us cutting his hair, but hopefully he'll remember that someone loved him. Maybe the children we held, taught, and played with will grow up with a knowledge of what love is. No, we haven't lost. We are forever changed for the better by the people we have loved and by the people who have loved us. I will always love them so long.