When your flight to Guatemala is just hours away, insignificant things suddenly become more significant. The broken dishwasher gets the attention it should have gotten last week, when I was busy packing. The mailbox gets cleared, the refrigerator gets cleaned, the dogs get a bath. Potted plants are watered, lists made, relatives called and banking done. You hug your kids tighter than you have in months.
The reality is, that traveling to and within Guatemala is not the stuff of sissys. The airport is one of the more risky international landings for commercial airports. The water and food issues need due dilligence, the remote rural roads I will be traveling on are in poor condition following heavy rains, and there will be weather extremes from 30's to over 100 degrees, all within one weeks time. And did I mention that I don't speak a word of Spanish (yes, this is my 15th trip to Guatemala, but I just don't "get" the language). In summary, right about now, I'm finished distracting myself by cleaning and my nerves are releasing their energy into my feet, which can't stop jiggling. Here is my true confession: I have major anxiety when I travel to Guatemala. Not just a little nervousness. We are talking anxiety attacks and all of the physical manifestations that accompany them. It-is-no-fun.
So right about now I am daydreaming of what it would be like if I were a "normal" mom of three, wife of one, owner of two dogs. No international volunteer work to occupy my every free moment. No realization of how much help is needed in rural Guatemala, and indeed, worldwide. No need to feel like that just because I can make a difference, I should. How relaxing it would be to attend local football games without my mind drifting off to whether Maria in Solola, Guatemala ate today or was even able to feed her children yesterday. The oblivion of a lack of awareness would make such a peaceful life.
It will take about 24 hours to find my emotional ballast again. I'm not sure which FFF mom will help me right my emotional ship, but one of them will remind me, through her circumstances, that if anyone should be having anxiety attacks, it should be them. I get to come home eventually. They are living in poverty that is almost impossible to overcome. "Home" for them will always be a place of hardship, no matter how much we are able to help. These generous donations should offer a bright spot in their day.