I’ve spent the last few days clearing out the closet that contained all of Kiran’s medical supplies. In fact I just donated the supplies to IMEC (imecamerica.org) – an organization that tries to improve health care for the world’s poor.

Its been difficult working in Kiran’s room after leaving things unchanged for over a year.  I’ve had to keep reminding myself that Kiran’s medical supplies are just that – medical supplies. They are not symbolic of Kiran in any way.  Giving them away is the right thing to do – if they can help other children. Still, the supplies remind me of the routines of our life – the suctioning, the daily cleaning of Kiran’s trach site and all the other little interventions – and I can find myself transported back in time, reliving those moments vividly.

This is one of the first steps in the process of packing up our lives here.  I thought it best to start with the supplies as that seemed the least emotional place to start.  Booby-traps everywhere.  Somehow everything needs to get done in the next several weeks.  I still can’t see letting anyone else do this – though many have volunteered.  It feels like its my duty.

There are so many layers to this transition.  Mainly I now seem to be feeling a heavy sense of finality.  The following lines from Fitzgerald’s translation of The Rubiyat of Omar Khayyam keep coming to mind.  I’ve never read it, but I used to read a lot of P.G. Wodehouse in my youth, and he loved to quote these lines.

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.