Closing a Door

Firmly closing a door is difficult for me. I like the idea of a circle - a loose, flexible ring that allows for a return to the beginning, that keeps me in "the loop" of an event. I may step out for a while but I know that I can step back in. This provides a sense of control. I understand what is happening and how to remain safely connected.

Last week I closed a door. I knew that I was done. I don't want the safety. I don't want the ease of stepping back in. I don't want to "stay in the loop" any longer.

When, and if, I return, I will be different. Although there will always be a connection to the beginning, a connection that I cherish, I want the door that I open next time to reveal something new, something unexpected, something unique.

'Me' MaThato

Before I even arrive at my daughter's home, I have a new identity. 'Me' MaThato. It translates as "Mother of Beloved." When my daughter arrived in her village, she was given a new name, Thato, which means beloved. [I hope I've spelled it correctly]. I am honored to be 'Me' MaThato. For years, people would say to me "Oh, you're Meg's mom." So, it is a label I know well.

What is a name? I've never even had a nickname, so having a whole community call me by a new name will be strange. I am defined by who I am as Donna. I wonder what having a new identity will mean -- the possibilities are tantalizing.

Packed. One carry on suitcase, a pocketbook and a warm coat!
Ready to go . . .