Today, K asked, "How much longer are yall going to be doing this?" I automatically answered, "as long as we can!" I walked away with an awareness that we have a choice. We don't have to do this. We can change what we're doing. We can also altogether stop. I'm not ready to stop. K's question made me realize I'm doing this for me as much as I may be doing this for anyone else. K's question makes me wonder, how much of this am I doing for others? I walk and wonder; on to the next house. We don't have supplies for next week, so there's that to think of.
I told the interns that I enjoyed us all being together for visitation. It feels breezier. I told them, too, that I'd hoped to exemplify pastoral care to them. Most of the time, when we're visiting, I don't feel like I've done a good job at pastoral care. I shouldn't have told them that.
Mark this in history: X said on April 24, 2020 that he is ready to go back to school. He says he's going to Tarheel Academy in the fall. Oh, how I don't want him to go. The combination of being gone for 6 months plus military school and the myth of consolidating his education into 6 months is infuriating.
Apt B child was waving from the top window today. She looked so sad.
We took a care box to J's house. There are 10 or more people who live there. They immediately opened the box to enjoy a snack.
C & B were playing outside. They seem so timid to approach me. I guess I'm glad they're not tackling me with hugs. But I'm also not glad.
A&J sung us a song when we went to their house on Monday. Words I remember: "I am not a victim." "Tuck everlasting, life everlasting." The visitation with A&J felt like a spiritual moment. I asked them if I could pray together. We did.