“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation”-Kahlil Gibran
Transition is a difficult thing. It commands so much of our bodies in many forms. It is physical, mental as well as emotional. In the past week and a half, I have dealt with the emotional. My days in Maui ended April 1st but the stories continue because I have so many yet to post.
I’m taking a moment to express my broken heart to the co-workers of both units that I worked at in Maui. Try as I may to push forward regarding my return to the mainland, my heart and soul is still there with you. Emptiness is a constant companion as well as a loss of the land. There are no west Maui mountains to view at six a.m. nor the city that lies at the base of the island. I have my paddles for my outrigger canoe but no water to awaken my soul in the early hours of the day.
Most of all there is no you, my friends and co-workers. I miss the staff and the patients who welcomed me although slow at first, but with full hearts later. I miss the laughter, the jokes and working alongside each person in his or her role. I don’t have you to do my “Hey baby” shout-outs to as I enter the doors, nor the hugs and air kisses given before we went into full swing at work.
I miss the hikes with my crew and all the laughter that only the bad boys could muster up. My camera misses you also. No parties, birthday or otherwise to take. I know collectively there are over 3000 photos taken in several media cards and that is a modest count.
So, now you know. I still love you all and miss you like a junkie misses a fix. Aloha and Mahalo to each and every one of you.