I don't know. I just don't know.

The airport lost my friend's ticket (somehow in cyberspace), so she was delayed until 5am the next morning. Her dad passed away overnight.

My other friend just left for the airport.

All day on Friday and all day on Saturday I could only think about my dad. I sort of escaped the gringo-house (where there are now 20 American students growing more and more angsty about going home) yesterday to work at Omar's. I had to ask for an extension for the length of my final paper on Social Work Cultural Competence and what I've learned as part of competence with Mexicano populations from my experiences. I hope I can finish it today. My director told me that, based on my previous work, she hopes that I can have this article published for the NASW or at least for material for our SOCW program at SU or here at CGE. That would be neat.

Anyway, I got cranky with Omar yesterday night because I just wanted to call my Dad. I had been waiting all day to go back to school where I could call him, and Omar wasn't intentionally delaying me, and I wasn't intentionally upset with him. I actually didn't know why I felt so anxious at the time. Then I realized on the drive over to school with Omar: "oh...I just need to call my dad." Sorry Pa, but sometimes I wait to call you because it makes me miss you more when I talk to you. It's because I love you so much, and it's hard to feel so distant. I do the same thing to most of my family and friends (avoid/deny the fact that I miss them like crazy by delaying calling them). I did finally talk to Papa, and that was good. But, I was sorry to say that my great aunt Corrine is not doing well. Also, I was startled when Dad told me that Friday May 1 was the 32nd anniversary of his own dad's (my grandpa's) passing away. He told me how every May 1 something happens (a noise, a start, a something) in the morning, just like the dad his father died and the morning prayer came over the hospital intercom. For Dad, it symbolizes that his dad is still present here with him, with me, with our family.

No wonder I was preoccupied on Friday. I knew something had happened. I sensed distress in my family. I sensed pain with my dad. Things like this happen a lot: I'll be calling my friend when she's calling me; I'll be thinking of someone and then cross paths with them or get an e-mail from them. Though completely mysterious, it is also quite consoling. For I believe this is the Spirit moving amongst us. And if a person is paying attention, they can hear God calling to their heart. Calling them to love and care for one another: "Listen. They need you. Go to them. Do my work on Earth. Love one another. I am with you always."

I'll never forget walking with my sister in Portland one day (ok, maybe I forget when it was last year..summer?) and the wind picked up and she flung her arms open and said: "Do you ever feel God in the wind?" Again, I was accosted by the fact that someone else recognized that as well. Since I was a child I have beleived that God is in the wind. That these often ignored or seemingly meaningless natural wonders are God's gifts, God's presence, God's words seeking us, consoling us. Yes, I do feel God in the wind. And I hope you feel the presence of God's love enveloping you as well.

I am going to mass. I am writing a paper, doing a powerpoint presentation, doing policy research, running, then having a party on the roof with the group. Maybe I can spend an hour with 20 gringos if we're partying on a roof in Mexico. Then, I think I'll go see Omar; he wants to teach me how to make mojitos. And I want more pictures with him.

Peace with all of you. And peace on Earth.

aly

p.s. I'm still not sick with swine flu.