He’s gone

Ha, as I wrote the title, the Easter song, "He’s Gone, the Spotless Soul Is Gone" sprung to my mind. Well, that HE is gone but He’s gonna come back. That thought should get any Christian fired up. No, the ‘he’ I refer to is the guy I replaced. Yesterday, at midday, he began his trek to the land of his abode, via ‘Jaw-juh’. That is spelled phonetically with the correct spelling being Georgia. Alas, this was the final event that was to signify that I am truly here. And it did. Charlene asked me, when we were at the airport, if the finality of his leaving is finally sinking in. I affirmed that it was. Even then, the event wasn’t terribly emotional. Of course, the person leaving was a guy. If it would have been a ‘dama’, it probably would have been different. But, as I said, change happens. Even by holding still and remaining in one place, one changes. A lot. Gravity takes affect. Young people become old. Babies grow up. Hair falls out.

Okay, enough of the examples. I was at the C. de. Este airport. Those of us that went to take Marcos to the airport were Maynards (4), Joby (the other maintance man), Rosene, Charlene, (nurse aides), Joanna, (former nurse aide and current stomach filler), Frederico and Diosenel (the Paraguayan workers) and of course the writer. Even after we departed and were going home, it hadn’t sunk in. Last night, sitting around the campfire with the staff, we thought about him. Today, on transfer, I mentioned to Rosene that it’s beginning to sink in. Whenever I needed a word, either in conversation with a Paraguayan or just for my vocabulary, he was there. When I wondered where a tool was, he knew. If I had a question on anything, he was there to answer it. But not no more.

And if it sounds like I’m writing detachedly or writing that he didn’t do a worthy job of ‘maintaining’, I assure you I’m not. I envy his fluency in Castiallano (that’s what the locals call it. they know that it isn’t good enough to qualify for Espanol. or so says my source). He was ‘muy amable‘ to work with, whether it was at the clinic or at church or running errands to and in town.
He will be missed but we all recognize that change happens, life goes on, people come and people go. But through it all, one constant remains….God. And those that knew Mark during his time in Paraguay knew that he had that constant.

But que en el mundo, life goes on and so must I.

the Ericulean Edit

Categories: Paraguayan Parables | Leave a comment

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