I am currently cutting through the moonlit pre dawn sky over Texas, on my way home from Haiti.

Twenty days ago I stepped onto a plane at DIA and took off to a tiny island nation devastated by corruption, political agendas and an earthquake that killed over 200,000.  A hopeless island if news reports are correct.

I had oft thought of this final blog, the blog I would write as a culmination of everything I had experienced in Haiti.

What would I say, could I say, to convey the images and feelings that have affixed themselves in my heart and mind?

Could I win the hearts of others to rally around the cries of the oppressed and hurting?  Maybe.

It turns out though, there is not much I can say, as words and pictures would never suffice.

I tried leaving Haiti twenty hours ago.

We stood in line outside the airport, the ground shimmering as the rainfall from the night before evaporated, the sounds of diesel trucks, horns, shouting and people jockeying for position in line.

It was only supposed to be a quick flight to Miami and then straight through to Denver.

Luckily, the airlines continued their stellar service and put us in four hours late and decided transferring bags to connecting flights were too big of a hassle for them, so I found myself stuck flying to Dallas at midnight and hopping on this flight four hours later.

As I sat in my comped hotel room last night, it slowly began to sink in.  I was back in the states and Monday would bring with it the responsibilities of my job.

Tuesday would find me in Boston and the following week somewhere else.

It was ironic that the in flight movie last night was “Up in the Air,” with George Clooney.

I took my first hot shower in three weeks and began to wash away layers of Deet, diesel and dirt.

I miss Haiti.

I miss the sense of purpose that came from my time there.

Decisions I made and projects I completed were immediately tangible and sometimes made a life or death difference.

Whether it was holding  hour old newborns, planting gardens, soccer with orphans, eating rice and beans for eighteen days straight or repairing a fuel pump with electrical tape and a stick of gum, it all seemed to be working towards a higher purpose.

I miss little Emmanuelle digging in my pockets and giving me a “Good Game!” pat on my backside every time I saw him.

I miss my friends I made there.  John and Beth McHoul, two people that heard the cries of Haiti and have called it home for the past twenty years.

Lise, Barbie, Alex, Jen and the rest of the medical team that fought everyday for patients to receive a level of care deserved by all humans. Treating them with dignity and giving them a chance to have a better life even sans limbs.

I miss Brian, the physical therapist, who taught people to walk again, to use their crushed limbs again, who remained in Haiti an additional three days even after he found out his son had been in a car accident, because Haiti needed him.  (His son is doing well by the way)

I miss 200+ pound Mastiffs that are gentle giants always looking for a tummy rub.

This morning, I even missed flying with other aid workers returning home.

I felt more comfortable with them, even though quite a few were  arrogant jerks, because we shared a common story.

Yet for everything I miss, I have a new found gratitude what I am returning to…

A beautiful wife who lights up my world, even when I would prefer to sit in darkness.

Team awesome, Oscar and Dakota, my amazing “children” that will greet me today with sniffing and licking and jealousy, as I am still wearing the clothes I had on yesterday in Haiti.

I will see my parents at the airport and celebrate Easter on Sunday as a family.

I am thankful for my job and the amazing people I work with everyday that are changing the world one community at a time.  A job generous enough to indulge my extended vacation in the hottest spring break destination ever; Haiti 2010!!

As I wrote earlier, it is a new perspective and I could not be more excited to start this new chapter.

Lise, the Canadian, and I were chatting the other evening.

We lay on my newly crafted pre-natal beds, watching spiders dance in the rafters, the scent of sawdust in the air, as we tried to figure it all out.

Sure we worked out NAFTA, and agreed Gretzky was the greatest hockey player ever, but the curling superpowers came up with nil in regards to what it all means in Haiti.

I know we are both still ruminating on the implications of time spent doing life together with Haiti.

I guess the stories will be spoken into existence when the time is right and the words are found.

Until then, thank you for your support, prayers, thoughts and smiles.  They meant the world to me and the people of Haiti.

-be blessed