"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." -Seneca

If a lizard was croaking in Marigold right now, you would be able to hear it. If a Mango dropped on the tin school roof, the noise would ricashae through to the front yard. You would be able to hear the snapping of branches as someone walked from one part to the next. And the sound of the television on high would be the equivalent of a loud speaker booming into an empty stadium. Emptiness. Hollowness. Clarity. The closet has been looted, plundered, ransacked. Most of the clothing in the shelves have left Marigold with the children.

Last night was painful. Elin and I made the rest of the goodie bags for the children. And packing them into a large bag, I felt a creeping sense of foreboding tip toeing across my body. Each bag represented a child that I have spent my summer with. A child that I have fed, has probably doo-dooed and peed on me, and has probably fell asleep in my arms. These children have been with me all the time, mostly unintentionally, but reminders of them are stained everywhere. I slept uneasily. I dreaded the 6:30am alarm that would be screaming "WAKE UP TARA, TIME TO SAY GOODBYE TO THE KIDS!!" Instead I woke up a little more peacefully; to the smell of incense and candles burning in the living room. Mom had of course made herself right at home. She greeted me by rubbing essential oils on my chest, face and ears. Explaining to me what each one stood for... gratitude, joy, trauma relief,  happiness. All things to help me maintain strength during today.

These children were downright adorable this morning. That is not to say they are not always adorable, but this morning they were different. Nicer with one another. The children shared and did it gently. Jackie gave us twice the daily dose of "i love you's" and kisses. I don't think I saw Leisha hit someone once (but then again just because I did not see it does not mean she evaded me, Leish always finds a way). Janeel was crying by herself on the ground, and then Akheel, her brother, ran up to her and tried to lift her up and console her. Michael giggled uncontrollably when I responded to his "no" with "yes yes yes." And when I went to give him a kiss on the cheek and I got one straight on the lips. My lucky day huh? So from start to finish, Elin and I captured the whole day on camera. We walked away from Marigold today silent as can be, with our minds as loud as ever and with 315 new memories to remember the children by.

This morning, we played like we always do. In the swings. On the cars. On the benches. Hanging from Elin and I. (The kids have so much style, what can we say?) Then reality sunk in like the moment when the cement you poured becomes too viscous to be undone. Tough to the point of no return. It sets. and it hardens. The kids, those that were left, would be joining their fellow Marigoldians in other homes in Kingston. This was it. Time for the kids to fly on their own. The children were summoned to the bathroom to be cleaned. And from there the day went by in a flash. They were showered. Then dressed. then labeled. Fed a snack. And in the middle of it all the bus arrived. My heart dropped to my knees. The driver walked in with a clipboard and a checklist. Naming names and calling children. The youngest followed the eldest into the bus. And as I held Lorraine, Janeel locked eyes with me for just a moment... her little body being pushed in the crowd to board the van. I braced myself. I looked back into the empty Veranda. And looked forward to see Janeel, Jackie, and Kellina waving to me through the glass of the bus. The bus was loaded and packed with 4 workers and 13 children. We held their hands, and said "see ya later!" being met with grins in return. "Me ya go way!" They all shouted. 

 And at the exact moment I was getting ready to walk away from the bus, one of the workers said "ya nah come go way wit us?" We jumped in the van. Not thinking about my tendency to get very car sick, I ended up in the extreme back of the bus, 4 rows preceding mine. About to journey through the rocky roads of Kingston to three different homes to place the children. here we go. If I threw up I threw up. Let it come. I really did not care.

Heavy car sickness followed. The ache in my stomach was slowly pushed away as we drove into the first home. Where we said goodbye to 3 beautiful babies and Jackstar. She walked into her new home with a trash bag filled with clothes, her goodie bag, and a toy. I will never forget her screaming "TAWAAAAA!!!!" at the top of her lungs every morning to get my attention. Her love is indescribably raw and pure. I love her so much.

And then we got back in the bus. Where the children had grown uncharacteristically quiet. And we went to the next home. Where all but two would be staying. Elin and I were so funny. We went around introducing all the Marigold kids to the kids from the home saying "these are our special friends, will you play with them?" The children were beyond sweet. Well-mannered and well-behaved. It was a place covered in paint and artwork. Even a small aquarium filled with tropical fish. And Michael LOVED it. He jumped out of the bus and ran through the building ending up in the indoor playground. And while Bimbola tried out his new walker in his new yellow crocs that Elin picked out for him, Janeel sat serenely on my hip and Akheel ran to my legs and hid himself behind them. When I picked him up to go on my other hip, I felt the familiar rush of warmth running down my legs. And he looked up at me with two huge pools in his big brown eyes. As much as I wanted to say something, I couldn't. I just gave him a big big kiss and shook out my legs and fed them both their shark bites. Then Ms. Murphy called us to be leaving. And Akheel grabbed on to me like I was his pulmonary vein. I bent down to try and level with him. Tried to tell him I had to leave and that he had to let go, and to watch out for his sister. But then I realized how silly trying to level with a 4 year old would be. So I told him I would see him soon, gave him the biggest hug I had in me, and I trudged onto the bus..feeling like I was leaving something of mine behind that had never belonged to me in the first place. So once again, I practice letting go. When we got back in the car, Elin looked to me and said "They have each other." This coated the lining of my stomach for the journey to our third and final destination. Kellina and Jahrine were fascinated by their new home. It has big beds for all the children and there are toys within arms reach. They inspected the place from head to toe, Kellina checking out her new stomping grounds. When Ms. Murphy was leaving them she said "now behave you two. And when mummy and daddy come for you you tell daddy to behave himself. and you tell mummy to behave herself. so you can be a family again. Be good." And with that we boarded the bus back to a Marigold that would never quite be the same for us. That would forever be a slightly different place. 

So we did what any two people would do after a day like today: we collapsed.

After a full night's sleep, Elin has been asleep for 4 hours. And I slept for 3 this afternoon. Our intravenous of emotions were poured silently into each and every person at Marigold today. Leaving us with no more than 10 pints of blood, all the right parts, and a bruised heart to go home with. So we slept. In the sunlight. In awkward positions on short couches. With the TV blaring. And my Mom on the phone. We slept like babies.  And in my sleep I thought about our time here.

Over the last five weeks, we've been something different for the children.  A set of unfamiliar faces who grew into "mama's", who grew into something resembling "teachers", who grew into "auntie's" and "miss's". We were something just a little different. Ladders for some, beds for others. A source of information for the older ones. "Tara, spell Donkey." "Elin, write my name hur soh." For some, we were protection from swatting hands. For others we were comfort when distress would cause tears shed. And in general, we were just pure entertainment. But most of all, I hope we were love. So I picture these kids running around from head to toe covered in flour. and i mean COVERED. Like if you were to take flour and smear it everywhere. I picture these kids running out of a bath of flour. Super messy. And after some time the flour will eventually fade. like all things do. but there will be remnants in weird places for a while. Like the tops of your ears. Or underneath your toenails. Things stick in weird places. I hope we stick like flour does.

And with that, a new chapter begins today. Every new beginning comes from a beginning's end. And it is time for the snake to shed the skin. Snakes shed their skin to allow for growth, as well as to remove parasites along with their old skin. and the way the snakes get the layer off is by rubbing themselves against a sharp rock to get the skin loosened up. So Quite literally Marigold will be shedding a layer in the next two weeks. We will be reorganizing the files, cleaning out anything extra, painting murals, repairing, and building. Elin and I only know how to do about 1/3 of these things.. a journey of a thousand miles starts with one step right?

putting one foot in front of another,(just like kellina)

tkm