


Day's Diary
June 19, 2007 ~ Moving On
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Charles, Alinafe and John (who has decided that he wants a whole new identity and insists on using his middle name Frank!) were just staying with me until their house was repaired and they could move into it. The house was college housing that needed major repairs. The metal roof and some of the rafters needed to be replaced needed to be replaced. Then the ceiling needed to be repaired and all the rooms needed to be painted to cover the water damage. The workmen estimated it would take two weeks, once they had the materials and that is what it took. It took more than two weeks to get the materials and then we watched the progress on the house, going each evening to see what had been accomplished that day. When the house was finished, there were mixed emotions. They were thrilled to finally have a home of their own, the first of their married life, to have the opportunity to unpack wedding presents and place things where they wanted them, to decorate and arrange things as they pleased. I was happy for them. This is what every young couple deserves.

But in the month they had lived with me, we had become a family, enjoying morning devotions and evening prayers, cooking together, eating together, laughing and teasing one another, checking on each others comings and goings and coming to love each other. Even “Frank” had warmed up to the azungu and enjoyed teasing and playing with me. Alinafe and I had shared laughter and tears. Charles had taken it upon himself to “look after” me as a Malawian son is to care for his mother, fixing things and checking on security. It was difficult to remember what life was like before they came, but now it was time for them to leave. That had been the plan from the beginning but it was harder than I had imagined.
On the day that the house was finished, Charles and Alinafe began to pack up their things, which had found their way throughout the house. I had lesson preparations to do, so I suggested that Charles just load the things into the truck and we would take loads down to the house as the truck was full. He carefully packed the truck and then we all climbed in and drove to the other side of the campus and unloaded the boxes into the freshly painted house. Then we came back for a second load. When it was delivered, there was a short conversation between Alinafe and Charles and then Charles informed me they had decided to “stay at home” one more night, so we all came back to my house. I was secretly happy to have one more night with them, but I wouldn’t say anything.
The next day, I had to go to Blantyre after classes to see a group off to the States. I expected to come back to an empty house, but instead, the lights were on, Charles opened the gate for me and Alinafe greeted me in an apron. They had prepared my favorite dinner, had the table set and were just waiting for my return. We had a wonderful meal, and stories of one another’s day. Frank was not happy. During dinner, he suggested that his uncle go live in the new house and he and Alinafe stay with me. Uncle could come to visit. We all smiled at that suggestion, given the fact that he didn’t want to live with me in the first place. After the dishes were done, Charles and Alinafe began to gather up the last of their things. Frank and I sat at the dining room table and played “table football” with a Hershey Kiss, sliding the Kiss to back and forth, seeing who could get it closest to the edge of the table without it going off. This is one of Frank’s favorite games. This was a good distraction while they finished the packing.
When the truck was filled with the final load, Charles asked me to come into the bedroom. He and Alinafe sat on the bed, heads down, neither willing to make eye contact. Charles spoke. He said he didn’t know how to find words for what they were feeling. They were grateful and sad at the same time. I knew the feeling - I felt the same way. He was quick to remind me that they were just at the other side of the campus and they would be coming and going regularly. He didn’t look up. He just said, “After all, I’m still your son.” I’m grateful he didn’t look up. He would have seen my tears, too. We prayed, as we had each night that they lived here, the “evening prayer.” But this time the prayer was one of thanksgiving for the blessings of being a family, not just for the blessings of the day. It was a precious time of prayer.
After hugs and tears, we headed for the truck and for their new home. Once everything was unloaded, we went in and prayed there, too, the only way to open a new house. Then I drove home, to resume life as it had been before they came, to adjust to the quiet again, and to having the bathroom any time I wanted it.
The next morning as I was preparing breakfast, the back door opened and Charles came in to ask me if he could have some of the sweet potatoes we had gotten at the market earlier in the week. Then he laughed. He had moved on but not so far away that this wasn’t still home. That felt good.