It'd be arrogant to think "My work is done," because a lot of that work is the natural course of time unfolding; I was merely a witness and cheerleader, adding the occasional formational remark. It was sad for me, and will be sad still...it'll hit more when I'm on the plane heading to the States, and more so when I realize that I can't just strike up conversation with whatever gringo is around about the ridiculousness of these boys and have them truly understand from sharing that same root experience of being in this place. I know that even in the midst of coming home, even in the midst of being welcomed back, of coming back to people who've been missing me, I'll be struggling with feeling very alone. I'm coming back a different person with different experiences, a different diet and different preferences; people will rely on my description of Jhon to form an image of him, unable to just draw on their knowledge of his quick-as-a-whip friendly tongue-in-cheek from encountering him in the kiosco. This is very tangential. The point is that as I feel more alone, as I feel my time in a community in which I've become comfortable comes to a close, the realization that I might not ever see these boys again will become more acute. And that's the way of things, and I'll fight the negativity tooth and nail and work on being grateful and trusting God as the time comes.
Now to the point of my post: Today's the Feast of the Holy Family. I could go on at length, but I'll let this suffice: Like those of the Holy Family: In every one of our relationships, may we have the Father as our first father, the Son as the first child born of the relationship, and the Spirit as our first lover.