My students and I leave for Eastern Europe in three short days. We will explore simplicity, striking out on our own, and meditate on the fragility of life. First a stay in Romanian village, Villae Populi, helping at an orphanage, seeing Bucharest, Ploesti and perhaps Brasav in Transylvania, then take the train to Krakow, Poland. There we will visit Auschwitz, and be still. We will meditate, write, and remember where we have come from and reflect on where we are going.
I think of one of my students who will not be with us. His grandmother was a survivor of Auschwitz. She was going to meet us and her grandson in Krakow. She would have shared her story with us, and with her grandson. It would have been an honor to be a witness to such a story, of a grandmother who survived so much, before, during and after the Holocaust.
My student fell apart on a recent home visit. His girlfriend broke up with him and so, devastated, he got drunk, smoked pot and did coke to excess. His addictions are running rampant, and so he is now getting the help he needs at another placement for the next 50 or so days. He reminds me of one of my students that I lost to a drug overdose. I still haven’t and maybe never will get over losing her.
His voice is growing so strong, his sense of himself in a larger more important story growing equally strong. But his demons, so strong as well. He is the hero of his story, and has all the makings of a tragic hero. We are rooting for him, so personally invested in him now.
I will miss not having him with me overseas. My friend, my little brother. Such an empty spot, so rooted inside of me.
Indeed life is a fragile gift, and I am thankful for it. So full and so fragile, and hopefully so enduring; an undying hymn of praise.
1 comment:
We're so lucky to have our writing to keep our demons at bay. You do amazing work -- believing in the importance of other people's writing. I can't think of a better gift than that belief. And your writing, of course.
Hope the trip's going well.
Post a Comment