Transition Number 5
It didn’t seem long ago that I was on my knees packing and repacking for Uganda. The goal was to fit everything that would be needed for the next 2 years. Even to the extent of looking up YouTube videos about how to fold shirts to create maximum space in the suitcase. Oftentimes my mom would make her rounds around the house to plead her case of being upmost prepared for my first trip outside of the United States. Time and time again I would reject everything she would try to offer me. “How about this shirt Jarid? Isn’t this your favorite shirt?” With each suggestion my tone would become more and more opposed of having another object to bring. In one of our classic family memories, she came in the room crying. “Ok mom, what is it?” She began to explain how she has been researching Uganda, and how they have cans there. Yes, the tin cans. She lifted the object to me, “Jarid, please take this can opener so you can eat the food.” With tears streaming down her face, “Mom, I am not taking tha...