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11 Tiny Things

You can’t make up tiny things.
I could easily imagine postcard-worthy mountains, and hundreds of adorable kids speaking other languages, and warthogs digging into my tent.

But when I remember the little things, those are what make me feel again like it really happened.

1. Making a sauna in the kitchen in Bolivia by boiling three pots of water at a time on the stove because it was always between 40 and 50 degrees in our little house.
2. The smell of our gas stove in Peru.
3. The beanbag chair in Ecuador that made it snow every time you sat on it.
4. Getting up early enough in Colombia to shower, so I could have time to get back in bed and warm up before we really had to get up.
5. Eating Japanese frosted flakes for breakfast every morning. Although they may have just been corn flakes; that detail is fuzzy.
6. Rock hard carpet in Malaysia that reminded me of the floor in my grandparents’ bedroom when I was a kid.
7. Taking cold showers in Thailand even though we had hot water, because the air was hot enough. Also the orange kitten that lived on our back porch.
8. All the Sprite I drank in Cambodia. Anytime I was craving sugar(which was a lot, after being away from America for near eight months at this point) I’d go to the corner store and get a Sprite, because I was also hot and thirsty and it was cheap.
9. The frying pan in Swaziland that always had to soak overnight because eggs would stick to it that bad. And the other pan that we destroyed by attempting to make peanut butter popcorn in it and almost setting fire to our hut.
10. The hippos and yellow birds in Botswana. I have never thought about that without smiling. I wrote a whole blog post about it. My mansion in heaven will have a hippo in the backyard with a buddy bird on its back. I’ve already asked God.
11. All our cats in South Africa. One day me and Meagan opened our back door and all four of them were napping in the same patch of sun and it was almost as cute as the hippo story.

It happened. It was real and it was good and it mattered.
I miss it today.

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Good, long, great and terrible

Someday I hope John Green writes an autobiography, because with how accurately he writes about grief and loss and joy, he has to have had a fascinating life.

I don’t like An Abundance of Katherines. It’s the only book of his I haven’t loved. I’m forcing myself to finish it, because Looking for Alaska was only okay and then turned amazing.

The point is, I love almost every word he’s written, and I remembered one of my favorites this morning.

“You are going to live a good and long life filled with great and terrible moments that you cannot even imagine yet!”

Today I really really believe that. Even though I didn’t just go blind.
That sentence makes no sense if you’ve never read the Fault in our Stars.