one week.

In one week Beth will move out of Kolkata. One week. cue internal panic. Well, maybe not panic…but maybe.

We’ve been moving towards this for six months. We have planned, and talked, and held the space of Beth’s transition. It is one of those and moments. I am so excited, so very excited for Beth to move into what is next for her, and I will miss her so deeply that I can’t fully project what it will be like after she gets on that plane. I have some ideas though (based on other times when Beth was out of town, and what it was like when Kyle and Sheila moved out of Kolkata). 

It will be sad, it will be hard, and I will miss her. I mean, she’s my go-to friend. We concoct crazy schemes together. We have dance parties in the kitchen, and cry together in the living room. She’s the one who I have mini-“debriefing retreats” with when the ground crumbles from beneath my feet.  She’s the one who sat in the laundry tub in the living room last May when it was so hot we were sure we were going to melt, so we had an indoor pool party.  She taught me how to make home in Kolkata, and how to always have more than enough food at a party or gathering (should we make another recipe? YES!). Beth has held my breaking heart, and listened (on more than one occasion) to the crazy “stream of consciousness” musings as I try to find heads and tails of confusion situations. She constantly points me to something more.  We have prayed, and grieved and celebrated together. We have worshiped and lamented, laughed, decorated, cooked, and played together. We have shared life, with deep intimacy for the past 3 ½ years. We have allowed ourselves to be known, and chosen to know one another. 

I have an idea of what it will be like when there is a “Beth-sized hole” in town…it won’t be awesome.

So we have this week. And I know we can’t cram every moment we want into it. I know rationally that we don’t need to, cause we already have 3 ½ years of life together, and this last week is the icing. That rational view, however, does not stop the emotion from rising up in me, yelling, “squeeze every possible moment out of the next week.” And in truth, I land somewhere in-between. I want to be present and cherish every one of the moments between now and Monday afternoon when we head to the airport.

There’s a lot going on. It’s a full week (as always). One so full that last night I muttered (mostly to myself) that it’s just too much. We found out last week that Sarah needs to have surgery, and it’s scheduled for Tuesday morning. There’s no such thing as out-patient surgery here, so she’ll head to the hospital Monday evening, and will likely be discharged Wednesday night. Beth’s last day at our Southern unit is Tuesday, Wednesday I’ll take Jodi (who has been an intern w/ us for the past 6 months) to the airport, Thursday is Beth’s last day at our northern unit, and then Friday and Saturday Beth Sarah and I will be on a mini-retreat just being together…and next Monday, to the airport.

It’s a full week. A very full week. And this is coming from a place where every week is full…so you know when we identify or name a week a full, or say, “there’s a lot going on” that means there is A LOT going on.

I covet your prayers this week (well, every week really, but especially this week). For the Sari Bari Community as we say goodbye to Beth. For Sarah and a speedy recovery. For Beth as she is in the throes of “lasts” and “final goodbyes.” And for Me, Beth and Sarah, as we cherish this last week, and celebrate and grieve individually and collectively.