Flying Solo

I was doing well. I had just dropped Patrick off at the airport for his vacation home. I gave him hugs and kisses, and drove off focusing on the fact that now I had Patrick’s home-coming to look forward to… and shortly thereafter, a visit by my mom. I thought about the goals I had for the week ahead, the opportunity I had to deepen my relationship with my son thanks to new one-on-one time. I was being positive and upbeat, fighting down the sadness of once again saying goodbye and looking into the next 10 days of being alone in Haiti with a tiny child.

I pulled up to a stoplight, still lost deep in thought. A man in the car next to me waved and signaled to me that I had forgotten and needed to lock my car. He was concerned, and he reached out. I didn't know him, hadn't met him before, and yet, he was concerned about my safety. I responded by locking my doors and thanked him with a smile and a wave. The tears came as I turned the corner.

It is intimidating being here without Patrick, not because I'm afraid of getting kidnapped or of other bodily harm, but because there is any number of unforeseen problems to solve in a given day here. Patrick and I have worked out a good system of figuring it all out together. So the prospect of tackling a week filled with the unpredictable nature of Haiti while flying solo with a baby shook my confidence. But as always, Haiti reminded me in a moment of fear that I have people all around me, a community of strangers, acquaintances and new friends that are willing to help, willing to protect, willing to be reach out and be supportive. The little gesture from the stranger at the traffic light was a powerful reminder of such a community. Solomon and I are going to be ok.