Irie Blossomed

This summer was magical. Truly inspiring and magical. Magical in both connotations of the word. Magical in the sense that things happened in Jamaica that I do not think I will be able to put my finger on or ever begin to give justice through description. Magical in that this summer I learned. Magical in that this summer there were blossoms. Leisha learned how to talk. Danielle learned how to spell her name right every time. Joshua came out of his shell and played. The teachers reached out and partnered with us. I developed a new appreciation for learning. And Elin developed a love for running. We were stitched into the knitted web of love that already existed at Marigold. This summer, there were blossoms.

I am still in awe about how quickly the two months went by. In awe and inspired at how our project started as an idea shared between Elin and I in Tennessee, and ended as a project of communities worldwide. We opened the door to Marigold, and the community rushed in.

After the work day we found ourselves at a loss for words. It was surreal. People were EVERYWHERE, doing things. Painting walls we never thought “needed” painting. Pulling up weeds to plant fresh seeds, cleaning out cluttered areas, sanding down and painting cribs. It was a magical day that will be forever tattooed in my memory. When Elin and I walked in to Marigold the Monday after, we started uncontrollably laughing. Dumbfounded because we could no longer recognize the place where we spent 5 weeks bouncing, playing, and teaching 40 beautiful children. The new paint and murals danced along the walls creating a warm enveloping environment. win! All that was left to do was scrub the floors of low sheen Miss Marigold and Sunshine. So for a few days we scraped the floors until they shone like we imagined the faces of the new children who will reside in Marigold starting in August.

And as we scraped, talented friends donated their time to paint even more murals on the walls. And donated vinyl murals from the Creative Unit began to dot the walls of the veranda, bedrooms, and main room. And Patrick, the most resourceful talented carpenter, refitted discarded wood from the roof and used it to repair and steady broken cribs and bunk beds. The ceiling fans were installed, permanently in the nursery and bedrooms.

And over the next week, miraculously more things will be happening even though Elin and I are across the world. A new table for clothes will be built outside to replace the dangerous sharp zinc table that lays in the middle of the playground. Rubber covers will bumper the space between the floor and the sharp metal chairs, creating a much quieter environment when kids get in and out of their seats. Questionable rusted playground equipment will be taken away so that the kids can have more running space. Shelves and cubbies will be built in the school room… allowing the teachers to do more with the space they have. The soft spot in the tree house will be repaired so it can be used as a treehouse instead of as a storage house. And the tyke cars that look like part of the garbage pile will join the garbage so that the kids are riding around on 4 wheels instead of 1 or 2. Growing minds generously offered to import playground tykes, swings, and soccer sets from Miami and deliver them to Marigold for the kids to play on. And a large refrigerator will be purchased in order to help with food storage and preserving food. And we have two wonderful women committed to ending to diaper shortage at the home. They have pledged to find a way to fund an extra 60 diaper packs per month to remove the reason for the limited amounts of water and juice that the children are fed. And lastly, we have Abigail. Who will work with Ms. Davidson and the High School Interact Club of Campeon College to start a yearlong service project at Marigold doing crafts and short lessons.

And we are still raising money!!! As of yesterday, I checked our Paypal inbox to see that strangers from both of our communities have stumbled across our blog and have donated to our cause. Need I say more? This is an astonishing testament to the power of the media, of word of mouth, and of community.

I leave Jamaica feeling full. full of energy, full of vigor, of passion, of life. To share about my experiences at Marigold with people who I cross paths with. To share about my experiences at Marigold with people of influence in Jamaica who are in a position to cause a fundamental shift. All coming from a place of the deepest and humblest respect for the people dedicated to these abandoned and threatened souls.



☮♥☯

tkm

I'll bereturning to Jamaica from December 21st until January 4th, and I absolutely cannot wait to see the children again. Counting down the days....

"Bless every humble soul who in these days of stress and strain, preaches sermons without words. -Peter Marshall

today was the best day ever!!!! i am just overcome with joy and gratitude for the wonders we witnessed today. getting to Marigold this morning, we never suspected that we would close the door this afternoon on an entirely new place.

Ingredients for this wonderful day:
50 brushes
40 absolutely incredible volunteers (coming from: Rotary Club of Kingston, Rotaract Club of Trafalgar, New Heights, Rotaract Club of Campion, family friends, our friends, cousins, community, home)
30 blank walls
15 gallons of paint
11 paint rollers
8 bags Marigold seeds
5 bags sunflower seeds

4 blank ceilings

3 bags soil

1 shovel
donated lunch from Island Grill
laughter
energy
love


there was a point this afternoon when Tara and i ran into each other in the main room of Marigold and just started laughing. there was just nothing to say. everything was so wonderful, and we were just in awe of the incredible gift we'd been given in being able to witness Marigold transform into a stimulating, cheerful, clean environment. the enthusiasm and care that everyone showed at Marigold today was the kind that makes you believe. not expecting thanks or recognition, the community poured love into Marigold, offering their hands and time to children they don't even know. people are so cool.

two nights ago i was looking through my journal from my first trip to Jamaica when i stumbled upon a list on the last page. it was a wish list of things that our group hoped to do at Marigold, something we'd put together on a night filled with frustration as we tried to figure out how we could better love the children. tears welled in my eyes as i read through the items, slowly realizing that, two years later, every single item on the list was about to be completed. paint nursery ceiling-check. clean out backyard-check. fix playground equipment-check. seriously?

we'll put up pictures of the fun we had today later. i just had to gush. He's just so Good!

aaah happy happy happy happyyyy day.

love love love you!

eeb

Extreme Makeover: Children's Home Edition

I love when I discover blessings in disguise. The times when you think things have gone wrong, only to find out its even better the wrong way. When you find out that there is no wrong way. That everyway is somehow a little right. These absolutely frequent and reoccurring incidences are constant reminders from above to let go and let [fill in the blank]. Fill in your higher moral belief. No matter what higher power you believe in. No matter what religious sect you belong to, or do not belong to, the belief in something bigger than us is a common thread that weaves mankind together. God, a higher power, karma, existence. Regardless of the label placed on the idea, they are all the same. The belief that there is more to life than just us, the size of a dust particle comparative to the universe that we live in. I am not one to believe in coincidence. I am the friend who harps like a broken record "everything happens for a reason" and I truly believe so. The moments that may be coated sourly; moments that may seem like mistakes, are all building blocks for the foundation of life. We learn unique lessons through our falls and missteps in lifes. Because no matter how gruesome, unsettling, or simply uncomfortable life can be sometimes, we are malleable. and the experiences we go through in life shape us and give us the unique characteristics that make us one in a 7 billion. We live, and we learn. and we build on our moments of weakness to build muscles able to recreate the leaps in our lives. We all start out as a the same block of clay. And we end a sculpture. Because there are a million ways to get to the same destination.

Life is actions taken through time.  Everything happens for a reason.

And the fact that the first time that Marigold has needed repairs severe enough to relocate all of the children in decades intersects with the time that Elin and I are in Jamaica is no mistake.

Its been a trip seeing our project in local newspapers. Its amazing how word of mouth can spread news as quick as wild fire. We have raised close to $3,000 USD. I have never raised so much money in my life, but then again I have never done anything quite like this before. And knowing that tens of people trusted us with an open ended monetary donation lights a fire in me that is inextinguishable. I want to thank every person from the bottom of my heart for your support. We had a vision coming into this journey, and because of the generous monetary donations we have received worldwide, that vision will come alive in technicolor before we leave here in 10 days. What a gift.

 And it has already begun to. The walls have begun to take a different shape and color. The walls have been primed and we are faced with a blank canvas. A space which before was filled, and now a vast expanse of white means a  cornucopia of opportunity. For with nothing, we can create everything.

I keep having flashbacks. and I miss the children dearly. Today while priming the bathroom, I saw small circular tubs, just large enough for a child's bottom. Children in a row. Sitting on the tubs. Urine. Doo-Doo. Washing their behinds. Quiet. And then I walked to the schoolroom, where we cleared the plants out for a garden to be planted (marigolds and sunflowers of course) where I saw three words in chalk next to the artwork on the building. "Saot, soot, sat" Raymond. Asking how to spell Saturday. S. A. No not O. What letter makes the "ah" noise. Try again. Good job!! Big smiles. Chalk taken by Jahrine. Playtime. Every corner and place at Marigold is stored with emotionally charged memories. Marigold without the kids is not Marigold. It feels like just a building filled with things. Filled with intangible memories.

But it of course is still the place the people know as a children's child care centre. And that is why Ronaldino's mother came looking for him for the first time in 3 years earlier this week. I looked at her through soft eyes, emotion welling up in my heart. I sat on the veranda and painted as I listened to her tell Miss Weiss about her three children, how bright they are in school and how she has come for a picture of Ronald. A picture to send the baby daddy to ask for money. The feelings brewing in my heart turned to fire. I reminded myself to seek to understand why. I exchanged a few short words with her, when on the verge of asking why Ronaldino does not live at home with his siblings, Ms. Nelson beat me to it. I was taken aback, overcome with pride, and joyed by Miss Nelson's bold remarks to this lady about being his mother and her responsibility to take him away from Marigold for a better life.

But until that happens, we work to make Marigold a better place. A place of color, of pictures, of murals. A place filled with love. We work with the staff to do things they want us to do. Like clearing out weeds and planting a garden. Like building shelves for the school room. Like buying them a fridge that works, and won't cost more to fix than to maintain. Like cleaning out the offices... 
The offices. are filled. with donations. Miss Davidson asked us to reorganize and sort through her office earlier this week. We were THRILLED to be able to clean out the space because she often told us how the clutter caused stress. So one by one we took out each item in the office until all that was left was her desk and a cabinet. I did not think it was possible to fit so much material in one space. We unloaded bag after bag after bag after bag of donations... clothes, dresses, shoes, toys, sheets, toothbrushes, more clothes, mosquito nets, blankets. All of the things identified by the workers as things they desperately needed at the start of our journey 7 weeks ago lay strewn in piles in front of us. White t-shirts for tye-dying: check. Crayons and markers: check. Tubs of books: check. Soap, lotion, toothpaste: check. I do not think I can even attempt to describe how I felt the moment it all hit me. The children are covered in mosquito bites, to the point that you think they may have a rare skin disease.. They only use 5 toothbrushes, even though they have enough for each child.. The things we thought happened because of a lack of resources, do not. I am not sure what it is about, but it is not because of things. The things are there. They are so close. So close yet so far. And as the things lay on a tarp sorted into piles, people sat in the middle of the piles folding out of bags and putting together pairs. And as Elin and Riley were getting a quick lunch, and as Miss Davidson was inside, and as I turned my back to try and find a matching pair, piles and shoes began to disappear. So I took a seat, peeled back my judgments, and remembered why I was here. And in whose honor I was working so hard for.

I keep coming back to something I wrote in my last blog. It captures perfectly how I feel about these kids. Feeling like I lost something that never belonged to me in the first place. But my heart belongs to these children. They all have a little piece with them. And each time we visit them at their new homes, I feel like I am put together in one piece again. To see Akheel light up and sprint from across the playground through the swarm of children to hug Elin's legs. To see Janeel sitting in her diaper, playing with a sticker pawned from Prince by her big brother. To see Bimbola, still in his yellow crocs, maneuvering through the crowd in his silver walker. Seeing them again is like pouring fuel in an empty tank. It keeps me going forward. Because I am not just painting a wall. I'm painting a playroom for Michael and Jackie. And I'm painting the sky that Lorraine can not see yet because she is just a newborn, but she can see it on the ceiling in the nursery, and she can see the stars.

We have been so grateful. People have been helping us paint, helping us clear out weeds, helping us clear out fences, clear out treehouses, clear our and reorganize offices. Feeding us lunch and snacks. People have been so helpful. Earlier this week, we walked into the backyard to see Miss Williams swinging. A sight never seen before because the swings have been broken during our time here. Apparently a group came in and fixed all the swings! Just yesterday in the middle of washing out paintbrushes I received a call from Island Grill. Wanting to donate lunch for our work day this Saturday. It has been a surreal experience.

Last night we went to the Trafalgar New Heights Rotary Club Installation Ceremony. It was breathtaking. We walked into a room filled with feathers, crystals, gowns, and good company. We were there to support them in their transition to a new board. To be there for them, and especially Tayana, a god send, as she hands over her presidency of the club which she has grown from 0 to 50 in two years. She has been an incredible light and support for Elin and I during our time here. We can not wait to work with them tomorrow during our work day at Marigold.

And now, the best for last! Today I had lunch with Abigail, the incoming president of the Interact Club at Campeon College. And we could not be happier to link Interact and Marigold together next year for a yearlong service project. Weekly lessons through art and craft by the interactors. Over the course of our time here we have been working on a craft book. 56 crafts and lessons that work with the environment, with accessible and cheap materials. Abigail and Miss Davidson will be working together next year to facilitate volunteers and to incorporate youth and raise awareness about Marigold. YAY!!!!!!!!!!!! It is absolutely incredible to know that there will still be art and crafts coloring Marigold even when we are thousands of miles away.

So I sit in a dark apartment, Riley and Elin at Ferry visiting Amoy and her goddaughter, the power out completely, writing about the last week. The humid Jamaican breeze through the windows serves as the only A.C. The cool sweat encapsulating my body is lulling me into a deep abyss. Sheer exhaustion from the last two weeks of physical work are finally catching up to my body.

keep it irie,

tkm

"Ships are safe in harbor, but that's not what ships are built for"- Anonymous

Below is a post from my mom who, as many of you know, had the pleasure of staying with us last week. Upon arrival to San diego, I had this beautiful message sitting in my inbox. It stands as a tribute to her time spent here with us. It stands as a fresh perspective, and we hope you will enjoy it as much as we did. 

with love, 

tkm & eeb
________________________________________________________________

My week began last Monday when I arrived in Jamaica to a typical hot muggy summer day -  96 degrees in the shade.  I was picked up at the airport by the girl's trusty taxi driver Ken who whisked me out of the airport and into my adventure.  It felt good to be home.  Palisados road greeted me with the calm of Kingston Harbour on one side and the wild Caribbean Sea on the other. Immediately I was taken back in time as I saw familiar sights, the coconut man still there selling jelly coconuts to passing motorists ordering up cool coconut water right out of the husk.  Driving through the streets of Kingston my life here until 1999 when our family moved to San Diego flashed before my eyes: familiar places, familiar sights, sounds and smells. Home.  I was so excited to see Tara and meet Elin. And they greeted me with broad smiles as we pulled into Marigold straight from the airport.  I immediately noticed their attire - shorts, baggy t-shirts and sandals. Ready for work and ready for any accident or mess that may come their way (which as they've described comes often).  As Elin pushed a laughing child on the rusted swing set in the front yard, Tara took me on a brief tour.  First to meet Ms Davidson, then round to the back and into the school room...and she began to introduce me as her special friend to all of the kids. "This is Jackie, this is Akeel, this is Janeel, this is Bimbola"... and with three children hugging my legs and jumping up into my arms my heart was already melting.  

Tara was clearly a fixture with the children.  They lept into her arms, kissed and hugged her tightly as we moved through the place. As we continued on the tour, my eye caught the bright paper mache solar system the girls had made with the children hanging from a string across the school room. Juxtaposed against the worn and broken playground equipment in the dusty and overgrown yard outside. It was exhilarating to see the photos of the children on the walls and the craft work that I have read about in the blog in bright technicolor before my eyes. Walking through the rest of the facility I could smell the pumpkin soup the children had for lunch and a the underlying fume of urine. Kids will be kids right?  I was proud I was inspired and I was present to the magnitude of the work these two young women have done and the difference they have already made here.

“Ships are safe in harbor, but that’s not what ships are built for” quote of the day picked by me (as the special guest, Elin is so sweet) for the girls on Tuesday morning.  Each day a hand written quote is randomly picked from a bag given to them by a close friend, Rachel, back in Nashville and stuck on the fridge with magnets. Small white papers inscribed with black ink litter the fridge and stick out in every which angle.  Little would I know how far their ships would venture out into the open seas and how their sea worthiness would be tested that day.   

It was the day all the children would be leaving Marigold to be placed in other homes while the roof undergoes repairs, and the facility renovated.  It was also the last day the girls would get to spend with the children in the home.  I dropped them off at 8:30am bright eyed and energetic and when I saw them again at 2:30pm they looked as if the wind had gone out of their sails and their engines broken.  It had clearly been a rough ride as they briefly described the experience of watching each child get off the bus and walk away: garbage bag over shoulder with some clothes and food.  Heartbroken. It was clear that the day had taken a deep toll inspite of the essential oils I had massaged into their hearts that morning, “release”, “gratitude” , “joy”, “valor”, “lemon” and “peace and calming” and I knew it was not the time to engage them in conversation.  So I nurtured myself and I nurtured them and they slept and slept for 3 hours before being able to speak. 

That night I took them to visit some old family friends, Sonita, Ricky and Clive Morin. Ricky and Clive were close friends of my parents when they were alive. We arrived on their doorstep at 8:30 at night without notice and we were welcomed as beloved daughters would be.  My treat was that Ricky’s sister who I’ve fondly known as “Tia Sonia” was there too.  It was a magical 90 minutes hearing stories of my Mom and Dad, Tara getting to know her grandparents and me feeling like I was 10 years old in a house I had played at and celebrated and cried at 30 odd years ago.

Routine is good; and I was absorbed into the girls routine as quickly as my daily 32oz of coconut water was absorbed into my contantly sweating body.  I particularly enjoyed our daily afternoon runs at Mona Dam, equiped with our iPods running together but in our own worlds.  I was impressed by how much cooking they do, especially the Jamaican Pumpkin Soup complete with dumplings and spinners!  And Green banana chips along with comfort foods like pasta and morning omlettes. Every day we each enjoyed at least 2 Bombay mangos, a Jamaican variety that is like an explosion of flavor and a small piece of nirvana in every mouthful.   

I loved the way everyone seemed to know I was on the island even though I told no one I was coming!  Bumping into friends everywhere so nice; our friend Liz who look me to a lunch at raw food restaurant that is a well kept secret in Kingston, nourishing my body and soul; Spending time with friends like Odette and Marie and Heather and Sandy and Sophia made my trip… and reminded me of what’s really important in life. People and being connected with those I love and love me;  I went to a Tea Party at Marie’s house and I haven’t had so much fun and jokes in a long time.  Being with Odette was like being with a trusty old pillow where I could relax and be myself and I laughed until my stomach hurt every time we got together.

The week went by like wild fire. And before I knew what happenned it was Saturday and we were on our way to visit the Marigold children in their new homes. Our first stop was where 5 yr old Jackie and a handful of infants had been placed. When we got there she looked lost. Completely numb.  All she could do to deal with the rage of being ripped from her home of 5 years, where she had been since she was a week old, her place of safety and the women she knew as her surrogate parents.  Her little face could hardly hide the fear, confusion and disappointment of being left in a strange place with strange faces.  She soon thawed though…melted by the unconditional love that Elin and Tara showered on her… going from one set of arms to the next…covered in kisses …swinging on the rusty swing set and what a relief and a joy it was to hear her peels of laughter as they tickled her, kissed her little face and made animal sounds with her.  Then it was time to go.  “Unu go way?” and her face fell. Unable to hold back the tears she clung to Tara.  As Elin peeled her off and set her down at a table inside for lunch, we wiped our own tears, unable to utter a word…our hearts breaking.  Why did she have to be there? Couldn’t I just take her home with me? Injustice was chipping away at my heart, and as we walked away from Jackie the three of us fell into silence.  Our next stop was a second home just down the street. There we met a group of Marigold kids ranging in age from 1-7...  Akeel, Jeneel, Leisha, Michael and Bimbola screaming “TAWA”  “ELIN” flocking to them with outstreched arms clinging to legs and jostling for a space in their arms was almost too much for me to bear.  Other children longing for a mother’s touch or a gentle smile were drawn to me and I spent the next two hours swinging, holding , and just nurturing love starved little ones as any mother would.  Still, we left emotionally drained abandoning our plan to go to a local beach  and we went home  our hearts heavy our minds full.  

Sunday we were off to Lime Cay.  A small Cay off the coast of Kinston where Kingstonians relax and recharge in the warm caribbean sea…crystal clear aquamarine water lapping the body and soothing the soul.  One of the highlights of my trip was a resounding “A-U-N-T-Y  M-A-R-Y” coming from the bow of a boat docked off the Cay as we were leaving on our little canoe, the next thing I knew he’s diving off this huge luxury boat and swimming madly through the water to the canoe heaving his body over the side of the canoe breathlessly saying “give me a kiss Aunty Mary” so I held his face hugging for a second before releasing him back into the water…. It’s Dane one of my son Ryan’s best friends in elementary school who I haven’t seen since I left 10 years ago. Bliss.

My last trip to Marigold with the girls Monday morning wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.  I stopped briefly to talk to Mrs. Davidson the director of Marigold, to tell her what I had observed with Jackie and to ask her if she could be moved to the other home to be with the children she knew.  Re-counting the situation I could not hold back the tears and as a tear dotted the corner of her eye she told me how long it had taken for Jackie to come out of her shell and assured me that she would call the placement officer and see what could be done to move her.  She also said Jackie would be returning to Marigold along with all the Glenhope children in a month after the renovation is complete.  Also that neither Jackie nor the other Glenhope kids are up for adoption.  They are wards of the state while their parents get back on their feet.  One last hug of my baby, and Elin who is now my baby too, “see you in 2 weeks mama”And with my shoulders lightly stinging from sun burn and my eyes stinging with tears I drove home with my heart so full it could have burst.

mkm

Knowledge of what is possible is the beginning of happiness. --George Santayana

i'm starting to notice the children's fingerprints on me. when eating, i think about playing games with Jackie while feeding her, pretending to eat her bite of food and listening to her laugh and laugh. feeling the wind blowing, i remember Michael sitting on the swing in the front yard of Marigold bursting into laughter when a gust of wind would blow into his face. the weather each day doesn't seem real without the children's song of "today is a sunny day and sunny is the weather! S-U-N-N-Y! S-U-N-N-Y! S-U-N-N-Y! and sunny is the weather!" i miss my little meteorologists. my clothes are too clean. there are moments when Tara and i will find ourselves sitting in silence together when one of us will say: "i wonder what the kids are doing,"  knowing we're both thinking it. it's incredible to have this feeling, really. it helps us know that this summer was all we believed it was while it was happening-we felt and shared genuine love with these precious children. they've left sticky, messy fingerprints on our hearts, and now that their hands have left ours, they've crawled from our laps and our arms for the last time, we're learning from their prints. we're listening to our memories. we're learning how to love the future children of Marigold through what they have taught us. 

the children taught us to never be complacent. constantly told to sit down, to stop talking, to go tidy, to eat, to sleep, the children were subjected to so many efforts trying to calm them down, to make them docile. and they were still crazy. they still laughed, they still splashed in puddles, they still made messes. they embody resilience, denying negativity access to their hearts and seeking out happiness. so for Loraine, who blessed our mornings with a beautiful smile despite the sagging, soaked and soiled diaper she wore, we went on area visits hunting for diaper donations.

Raymond and Danielle taught us how beautifully a child's artwork can capture their personality. Raymond, a fastidious artist, would spend the entire time allowed for a craft carefully tearing pieces of construction paper up to fit perfectly into the outline of the wing of the plane he was supposed to be filling in. he never finished, but his work was such an awesome exemplification of his little quirks-his patience, his attentiveness, his excitement over seeing his own work. Danielle loves color and patterns. her artwork had a trademark this summer-the circle of puff balls. in every project that we brought the puff balls out for, Danielle would be drawn to them. she would ask for dots of glue in a circle around her project and then carefully pick out a puff ball for each dollop. when she finished hers, it was time to help one of her friends...even if they didn't want her help. for them, we're having the best time writing a year-long curriculum of lessons and crafts for volunteers to share with the new children.

Ronaldino IS perseverance. we always played this game with him where we would stand still and count how long it would take Ronaldino to climb up us and latch onto our necks. he would literally use us as ladders to get into our arms. and he never, ever gave up. he would find the awkward dent in my knee and use it as a step, he'd leap a little and grab onto the collar of our shirts to pull himself up a little higher, he'd pull our arms from our sides and walk up our torso's Mulan style. but when he got level with our eyes, it was always the same. he'd look straight into them and get a huge smile on his face, then he would wrap his arms around our neck, wrap his legs around our waist, rest his head against our collarbone, and settle. you could feel him relax into you, happy to be held and noticed no matter what crazy route he took to get there. i think his record was six seconds from floor to relaxation. learning from him, we called PayPal one more time and, thanks to the incredible patience of Tara's wonderful mom and a darling woman named Erin on the other end of the phone, we found a way to conquer the little bumps we've been struggling with. 

Victor is the teething King and Anita the escapist Queen. between the two of them, the cribs don't stand a chance. so we're going to spend some time with Tara's aunt and cousin making sure that, when future Victors and Anitas come, the cribs are up for the challenge. 

we've been planning these projects for a while, but until now they just seemed like things to do. they were just the physical component that we had the opportunity to help with. and now we're learning from the caregivers and trying to love the children in different ways. we're missing the kids by scraping paint and thanking them by digging up plants. it sounds crazy, and it probably is. but it's given our time so much more meaning. we're not just doing stuff, we're doing it for Kelina and Janeel and Bimbola. it makes it so much more fun. 


Laugh like a Jackie!


eeb

and now the diaper story!! this was so, so cool. so on Thursday we're standing in the supermarket and Tara's mom is talking to an old friend who worked there when they lived here. Mrs. Mullally's telling her about our summer-the time we've spent, some of the hard things we've seen, and especially about the dismal diaper situation. she's telling her about how we're looking for a commitment from area pharmacies and supermarkets for monthly diaper donations. and the woman (Rachel) could not have been sweeter, showing her compassion for the children in her eyes and directing us to the owner of the supermarket chain who happened to be in the office today. the owner could not have been more kind, explaining that they send back dozens of packs of diapers to the distributor that have been opened by customers or damaged in superficial ways. she encouraged us to speak directly to the distributor and provided us with a list of contacts to call, which will be so awesome as we continue to look around for help. and then we walked out of the office and Rachel called Mrs. Mullally back over to her. i went and looked for some groceries and when i got back Mrs. Mullally had the brightest smile on her face and was so pumped-a woman had overheard our conversation with Rachel and had asked Rachel to get our contact information because she was so touched by the story of the children and wants to help. seriously. that happened. and then we ran into a sweet woman named Gill who was friends with the Mullallys when they lived here (along with 80% of Kingston..such a wonderful family!). she graciously offered to help our efforts to collect diapers and plans to link up with Marigold as a caring supporter when we leave. it is absolutely incredible how giving the people of Jamaica are. everyone we tell the story of Marigold to is not only deeply touched by the suffering of the children, but so eager to share in their burden. we are constantly offered donations of time, prayers or services to help the children; it is such a testimony to the power of community and genuine compassion. it has been such an unexpected blessing to witness the dedication to helping others that unites Kingston. 

"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