Tomorrow my seven (sita na moja/six plus one) Kenyan guests will board a large two story light blue KLM airplane in Nairobi at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. It will be a first flight for some, a first trip across the Atlantic Ocean for all.
I am not a mother, but after today, I might understand a little bit about birthing. A little bit, though not really. But I have birthed this trip, and I was pregnant with this trip for much more than nine months. I am now in labor, and the final pushing has begun. Today I hit a roadblock so immense, so unfathomable, that I might have stopped breathing in response. I needed an epidural, but instead I screamed and bore down. I pushed and pushed when I wanted to give up and crawl in a hole.
I need tonight to be tomorrow to know that my Kenyans are in flight, and then I need tomorrow to be the day after so I can be standing in the Cincinnati Airport, on the other side of the line on the floor separating inside from outside, seeing 7 smiles crossing that line. Then I will truly breathe, and I will see the birth of a notion from ‘what if’ to reality. And then I need to slow time and be in time and reactivate my Kenya time.
May the travels be safe, and the burdens light. The seemingly impossible is about to become possible.