Today we had our final appointment at the US Embassy, and tomorrow we are homeward bound. It has gone fast. Much faster than expected. And although there is much to love about Colombia, I’m glad to be going home.
Two boys wait for us in Minnesota. These past ten days we’ve been apart, and I’m eager to be seven again. If only for the weekend. Luke will return to the university on Monday, but at least we’ll all be in the same country, the same state.
We’re ready, I think, to make the transition. Ready as we’ll ever be. Jimmy’s been working non-stop on English. This social boy knows what he’ll need to survive. Too much silence would be torture. He needs to talk. Felipe, not so much. He’s more content with silence, less inclined toward language. We might have to prod, but he’ll get there. He’s brighter than bright, and he’ll learn.
Yesterday father and son took a Taxi to Felipe’s favorite store. Rubik’s Cube. He conquers these puzzles in record time, and craves the next challenge. The boy is a genius with strategy and numbers. We look forward to seeing what he does with his gifts.
Grant is holding down the fort at home, and it’s rumored he’s doing a great job. Grammy stopped by earlier this week with dinner, and later she sent me an email. The house is clean to perfection, she said. My first-born is ready for a home of his own. Soon. Too soon.
Once home, we’ll be planning a wedding. Grant sent a text with pictures of suits for the guys. There’s a sale this weekend, and he’d like to take his new brothers shopping. They don’t even know they’ll be groomsmen. Grant still needs to ask. The wedding party will be a team of brothers. Four of Grant’s, and one of his bride’s.
Boy Mom indeed. The mom of five. Crazy. And it is, sometimes. I had one hard day this week. One day when my attitude tanked. I was teary and tired, and I wasn’t sure why. But Kyle understood, and he helped me to see. He said, there’s been a lot of male bonding going on, and it’s good. But hard, when you’re not a guy.
That’s it. I can smile, thinking about it now. They bond through competing and wrestling. Trash talk in two languages. Favorite family phrases, unique to boys. And I am one of them, but not. I’ll need to trust God to show me the way.
Tonight for supper we eat arepas from a vendor, and leftovers from the frig. It’s our last chance at both. We’ll pack our bags before we sleep, ready for an early morning flight.
Buenas noches, Colombia. Gracias.