The Persistence of Memory

I know you all recognize this Salvador Dali painting and recently I felt a lot like I had suddenly been painted into something rather surreal. Our former church here in Rio, Cascadura, is currently without a pastor and João was invited to lead the prayer meeting on Wednesday night. So off we went. When we arrived and climbed the steps to the sanctuary, it felt to me like I was in a time warp. All the same people greeted us. The piano, the organ, the music leader... hadn't changed. I sat in my same pew. João led the service. And for almost the whole time I felt like I had never been to Canada at all. We were still back in Cascadura. So I ask... does time really exist, or is it just in our mind? When something like this happens, it is so strange. I knew everyone's name and could ask about their family and friends. I felt so very at home, not like a stranger at all. I had to consciously remind myself that this was no longer my reality. Much had happened since we left Cascadura in 2001. Somehow it was a nice warm feeling - fleeting though it was - to erase all the good-byes and feel like I had never left.
And I realized in that experience, that all the pain of ever leaving Brazil had long since fled my mind and heart (even before returning to Rio) and now I could just enjoy being back. At the same time it flashed into my mind that I have never fully given myself time to grieve over leaving Canada. Yeah I cried when I said good-bye. But in my joy of being here and our ministry, I have felt rather like it would be a betrayal of my gratitude to continue to miss Canada. There has been a certain pressure for me to quickly say that I don't miss Canada and have totally adjusted back to life in Brazil.
I think I have adjusted here. I am happy. I love where I am in my life. BUT (did you hear the other shoe drop?) I think I can feel all that and still be grieving for my loss. I can admit I miss my church, my friends, my home... even my cat. There are days I awaken and expect Sadik to come bounding in to jump on my chest. I feel a heaviness to remember that he never will do that again because he's still in Canada. There are days I awaken and put my feet on the floor and expect to feel that rush of cold on my feet and instead I step into hot and muggy. I want to run next door to the church and instead I must catch a taxi. I think about calling my friend to go to Costco, but instead I walk down to the butcher shop down the street. So I still have my time warps. You just can't be in two places at the same time, but my mind hasn't learned that yet. There is a time to let go and yet that is so hard. The memories ARE persistent!