add some pineapple, and you have a masterpiece.

we went to pizza domneasca (the place we walk past every day on the way to section 2) for one last time on thursday.

i got a pizza with ham, chicken, olives, and of course cheese and tomatoes.

and some lemonade. worth the fact that it's kind of expensive? yes.

if that pizza had some pineapple on it, it would have been all i love in the universe.

near perfection. mmmm.

this is the life, my friends.

jewish for a day.

on our first free day in which we have time to do homework, catch up on things, visit places, etc.

a group of us went around to all the jewish related things in iași on thursday.

and every taxi driver we encountered i think determined that we were jewish tourists,

because it seems that no one else ever really goes to these places.

because it's been 70 years this summer since the iași pogroms, there's an exhibit in muzeul unirii about them with photos and a video, and other items. i thought it was super interesting, and though i didn't understand everything because it was all in romanian, i still gleaned a fair amount. and it was still mind-boggling how this ever could have happened so recently. scary, really. most surreal of all is that this all happened on the streets i walked on and drove through while here in iași.

and let me add the detail that we were the only ones in that part of the museum/most of the museum in general.

we then walked up towards piața eminescu and got in taxis to take us to the cimitrul evreiesc, the jewish cemetery. it's a little bit off of a main road, and we had to drive through what looked like richer parts of iași--big houses, nice cars, etc. and then to a more secluded and abandoned looking area: the cemetery. we had to pay 10 lei to get in, which wasn't enormously ideal. especially because it was just an old lady and a bunch of dogs by the gate. it looked a little bit sketchy, but we survived. there was a big building outside the cemetery that the fence was attached to, but the building itself looked completely abandoned, though i'm sure must have been used at some point in the past. the cemetery was huge! and there was a special monument for the victims of the iași pogroms, as well as for a massacre that occurred in the woods just outside of iași. there's something about cemeteries that i find so peaceful and relaxing. and it was kind of nice that we had the whole cemetery to ourselves.

"in memoriam of the victims of the 1941 iași pogroms."

"to the 13,000 victims of the 1941 iași pogroms."

this yellow building is the one that looks big and nice, but seems abandoned.

the lady and the dogs.

the front of the building.

a lovely view of iași through the fence.

from there, most of the group went back home, but amanda, michael, and i continued on and went to sinagoga mare (the great synagogue). it's the oldest synagogue in romania, and the second oldest in all of europe! another sad sign about the culture here, however, was that it looked like it was abandoned as well. technically it was just under construction, but it looked more like a lost cause kind of construction with boards over everything and no trespassing signs. we were able to see, however, the monument honoring the victims of the iași pogroms, and then walked home realizing how close the synagogue is to where we live.

interesting and intriguing day? indeed it was.

start with spoons, end with spoons.

i realize i'm a little behind, so we'll just take this one step at a time.

until i'm all caught up.

and i think my finale post will come once i've flown home.

that makes it sound exciting. it's yet to be written, so i can't really promise exciting.

good? good.

for our final fhe in romania, we decided to keep it simple and play spoons and musical chairs.

musical chairs, you ask?

little do you know. they LOVE it. it's kind of hilarious really.

and a little bit vicious. haaa.

don't worry, everyone's still alive.

despite a few scratches from the games of spoons.

rossles, elder simoila, melissa, rebecca, michael, and sora holman.

florentina, eugenia, sora bennett, aurelia, kylee, geanina, and me.

dan, elder biggs, rossles, elder simoila, melissa, and sora holman.

in case you want a little refresher, this was the day of the insane curly q's that look like this:

what can i say? it was a hot one that day.

bahahaha. makes me laugh every time.

i believe in miracles.

something indescribable is happening right now.
a miracle, of sorts.

last night, one of the interns from last semester contacted me, wondering if i was in her room/to see how the kidlets are doing if it is the same room. you must know, i have mixed feelings about this. up to this point, i try to forget about the fact that there are other americans that have had a similar experience. i like to think romania is our own. however, my mind has now been changed.
while i do still kind of like the idea that our experience is unique, there's something to be said for combining our unique and tender experiences into something incredible for a child's benefit. most of all, having this happen without either of us knowing, until now when i'll soon be headed home.
and tonight, i'm learning that this is exactly what happened. magic for a child, because both those interns and i were willing to throw ourselves out here and give our hearts to our kids.

a miracle.
a beautiful, indescribable miracle.
for us, at least.
and for our boy.
it's all coming together, and it's completely beautiful.

i wish nothing but the best for you.

today was my last day with both my kids, and at the hospital.

i said my goodbyes, and it was perfect.
for the most part, it was a rather average day until the moment at the end when i had to say a final farewell.
and i would have had it no other way.
i didn't even cry for almost the whole day.
[until i saw a certain boy make a certain face as i was saying goodbye. and then all hope was lost.]
a little girl gave me kisses, and then gently slapped my face. it seemed fitting.
my favorite worker was the one working today.
it was average.
it was beautiful.
it was just right.

i love them forever and always. and i'll never forget the experiences we've shared together. almost every day, there was something significant felt or experience had with at least one of them, usually more, and today was no exception.
it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood. sunny days, sweeping the clouds away. on my way to where the air is sweet. come and play, everything's a-ok. family. neighbors. friends. that's where we meet. can you tell me how to get to sesame street?
and so i say to them for the last time, pa pa pentru acum.
see you in heaven, my loves.

for my babes and their angels. you are mine.

I have noted that children are often more naturally accepting of pain and suffering. They quietly endure with humility and meekness. I have felt a beautiful, sweet spirit surrounding these little ones.

Thirteen-year-old Sherrie underwent a 14-hour operation for a tumor on her spinal cord. As she regained consciousness in the intensive care unit, she said: “Daddy, Aunt Cheryl is here, … and … Grandpa Norman … and Grandma Brown … are here. And Daddy, who is that standing beside you? … He looks like you, only taller. … He says he’s your brother, Jimmy.” Her uncle Jimmy had died at age 13 of cystic fibrosis.

“For nearly an hour, Sherrie … described her visitors, all deceased family members. Exhausted, she then fell asleep.”

Later she told her father, “Daddy, all of the children here in the intensive care unit have angels helping them.”

To all of us the Savior said:

'Behold, ye are little children and ye cannot bear all things now; ye must grow in grace and in the knowledge of the truth.

'Fear not, little children, for you are mine.

'Wherefore, I am in your midst, and I am the good shepherd.'"

kent f. richards, the atonement covers all pain.

some things are meant to be.

let's pretend we're riding on a kite.

let's imagine, we're flying through the air.

we'll ascend, until we're out of sight.

light as paper, we'll soar.

let's be wild, up high above the sand.

feel the wind, the world at our command.

let's enjoy the view, and never land.

floating far from the shore.

some things are meant to be, 

the clouds moving fast and free,

the sun on a silver sea,

a sky that's bright and blue.

and some things will never end.

the thrill of our magic ride.

the love that i feel inside for you.

we'll climb high, beyond the break of day.

sleep on stardust, and dine on bits of moon.

you and i will find the milky way.

we'll be mad, and explore.

we'll recline, aloft upon the breeze.

dart about, sail on with windy ease.

pass the days doing only as we please.

that's what living is for.

some things are meant to be.

the tide turning endlessly.

the way it takes hold of me,

no matter what i do.

and some things will never die,

the promise of who you are.

your memory when i am far from you.

all my life, i've lived for loving you.

let me go now.

some things are meant to be, little women.

i sing this to my kids in the back room. every single day. i do so on purpose, so that no matter what, there was some sort of continuity, and a repetition giving them something to associate me with. and as a message for them. i've lived my life to this point, to love them. and even when i am far from them, i'll always have their memory.
they all love it. one girl always 'sings' along. and one boy has a favorite part. he always, always perked up when i said 'let's be wild.'
this 'wild' boy of mine is going back to heaven very soon. i learned today that he's been transferred now to a new location that will give him all the care he needs in his last days. the last phase of his life. a life too short by normal standards, but long enough considering the conditions he lived in and the body he is trapped in. i know i'm not allowed to talk about him. or really say much. but i can say this: he is one of the sweetest boys this world has ever known, if not the sweetest. and he always has an ear-to-ear smile on his face. always. the world is a better place for him having been in it. and i know i've been blessed to have know him. the sweetest soul from heaven above will soon be back there again. and he'll run and jump and laugh and play.
don't worry. i've already had my crying session. i think what makes me most sad is thinking about the girl his bed used to be next to. they had a special bond, she and him. and i don't care how odd you may think it is for me to say, there really has been a noticeable difference in watching her see that he's not there anymore, and the fact that his bed has now been moved out of the room and she's more secluded from the others. whereas she used to have a special friend always by her side in what usually looked like one big bed.
there's more a could say about yesterday or today. but for now, i just don't want to. tomorrow is our last day at section 2, and this morning the reality of us leaving actually hit me. and i cried while in the back room, before i had even found out about this boy of mine. it's been a day. goodbyes are hard no matter what, and even harder when they're for life. when i walk out of section 2 tomorrow, it will be for the last time. and there's a high chance that i'll never see those kids again in this life. bring on the tears. i love them too much. it's ripping my heart apart. and the worst part is knowing the neglect they'll face before a new intern comes in september. they just need somebody to love them.
on the bright side, i'm lucky to have met them. and gotten to know each of them. and most of all, i'm lucky that it wasn't until now that this boy of mine is headed back to heaven. i've had the opportunity to love him all summer long and get to know his beautiful soul before he returns back home and straight into the arms of god.

curly q's.

i need to go to bed, so for now, i'll let the pictures do the talking.

any day that has out of control curly q's means one thing:

a whole lot of sweat.

which means a whole lot of kiddies being adorable/climbing all over me.

babies. my kids. the works. and maybe a few suffocatingly sweaty hospital rooms.

all cooled off by the air conditioning in the vila.

my skin has never been so moisturized.

so rossles helped me have a photo shoot with my hair.

haahahaha.

romania is too good to me.

why must i leave this place in a week?

in the words of so many romanian children/children around the world:

(not my own, bineințeles [of course]. they'd never give such attitude.)

nu vreau.

[i don't want to.]

marriage and things.

last night after swimming and shopping, we met teo in copou and went to the wedding of another physical therapist in section 2! this time, it was a romanian orthodox service. the church was beautiful. the evening/sunset was beautiful.  the couple was beautiful. and the ceremony was an interesting peek into romanian orthodox traditions.

the bride and groom are the ones wearing the metal crowns.

bride, groom, and a few of section 2's finest.

we might have had a picture taken with them when we went to give them flowers after the ceremony. aka, the first group picture. they didn't stop for anyone else. ahahaha. we'll see it someday in the future, i hope. we also have a photo with teo. but it's not on my camera, so i'll have to add it someday as well.

operation wedding? success!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

now that we are in the single digits when it comes to how long we have left in romania, i'm starting to feel like there's not enough time. but at the same time, i've done most everything that was on my list. there are just a few remaining excursions that i'll be taking this coming week. all before packing my suitcase and leaving on a jet plane. i'm at a weird point between being ready to move on, but still loving my children to death and not wanting to say goodbye for life. especially because i know how neglected they'll most likely be, not just in my room, but in all rooms when suddenly section 2 is down so many hands and loving hearts.

bring on the last few days of loves and hugs and adorable romanian children that make life all worthwhile. i wish my kids were more loved and cherished. i'll leave my peace at that in so public a place.

i love romania. i love my kids. i love the rain falling outside the window as we speak. and i love babies!

i don't love the thought of leaving. or the thought of all the write-ups to be done. or a few other things. etc.

you get the idea. i've a torn heart, you see. torn between here and there. between here and gone.

mișionarii.

this past week was transfers for the missionaries,

so sora mullen and sora holman came over on tuesday night so that sora mullen could say her goodbyes.

we spent tuesday night through friday night, essentially, without electricity. except for off and on every so often. starting with just light switches being out, and then everything. reason number 32497 why i love romania.

my point in telling this fact is this:

don't judge our dark looking apartment and our beautifully sweaty faces.

sora holman is still here. (the one on the left.)

sora mullen has been transferred to cluj. (the one in pink on the right.)

as far as elders go, they shot-gunned the area.

elder wirthlin went HOME!

and elder cox, the boboc, was transferred to a place i can't remember.

so we have three new missionaries for our last week and a half together.

sora bennett, elder biggs, and elder simoilă.

(i think. he's romanian. so remembering his last name has proved interesting.)

life's exciting when the missionaries are such a big part of the branch.

and therefore we have lots of interaction with them.

welcome to the newsies!