This is an entry from Jamie's diary. This forms part of the 'Words from the Windward Tree' collection of letters and entries.
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July 7
Coming back to Kwalaylee was the best thing I've done in a long time. I got to lay to rest the ghosts that have haunted me for years. Over the years, all the horrors I read about in the news, all the stories, have mingled with my childhood memories of chasing blue butterflies and playing in the sun, in the very places where people have lost their lives.
However, coming here has given each thought and memory its place. There is so much hope here; people are rebuilding their lives.
Luke is not here though, I was told he went down to the city. He's supposed to be back in a day or two. I'm not going anywhere for the time being so we'll see.
I went to see the ruins of the hospital where I was born. Hospital is a big word for it, more like a small office with 3 rooms next door. But even that is gone. There's no roof and tall grass growing everywhere. At least the blue butterflies like it there. It's all surreal.
I walked around it for a little while, deep in thought about all sorts of things. I'm amazed that people say there's nothing new under the sun. I think there's nothing old under the sun. Every moment is new. It's just that the eyes get used to things too quickly.
The thought seemed like a tangent at the time but as I walked around the dusty ruins of the hospital, I was aware, more than ever before, of how much things change. Maybe we don't see the change but it's there in every moment. And every moment brings the opportunity to see things in a different light. I guess at some point in my life, I fell into some sort of waking sleep, where I stopped believing I could make any difference to my life. How wrong I've been.
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