Looooong week up ahead.

Happy Monday everyone.

This week will fly by in heartbeat. I can feel it. But next week? I have this feeling that it’s going to last a lifetime. Periodically my husband decides to leave me for long periods of time to do humanitarian work. Or that’s what he says he’s doing, but when I look at the pictures it sure does look as though he had way to much fun for it to all be humanitarian work. Although who says that helping people has to be a drag? I guess it doesn’t. Or isn’t.

This is my very handsome, patient (with my hearing problem, but not in traffic), incredibly goofy and just flat out irresistible husband. Scratch that, he’s only irresistible when he’s not tired, cranky, and worn out. At that point he’s pretty resistible. Moving on.


Next Sunday, which happens to also be Father’s Day, my husband is leaving for ten days. Which means that for ten solid days I have uninterrupted time with a two year old girl and a three year old boy. Now I love my children, but ten days can be a long time to be with them without a whole caboodle of help. Trust me on this. But actually I will admit that I am sending my son to a Vacation Bible School program, meaning I will have three solid hours for five days straight with just one child. This can be a life-saver. Since we’re not discussing my sanity-saving techniques, but my husband’s travel, I shall continue with the previous topic.

Ten days. He’s going here. Elbasan, Albania.


I’ll try to cram the story into a few paragraphs as to why, but bare with me. This could take a while.

Most people look at my husband and think he’s Hispanic, but I doubt he can count to ten in Spanish. Seriously. My husband’s great grandfather, Fahimeh Mamet (don’t even try to pronounce it), escaped from the poverty stricken country of Albania at just fourteen years of age and immigrated to the United States (don’t worry, we’re all legal).

Decades later his granddaughter, also my husband’s mother, had this huge desire ingrained in her (I tend to think it was God-inspired) to begin a humanitarian work within the country of her heritage. So in very early 1990’s my husband’s father and mother were some of the very first Americans allowed entrance into the post-Communist government of Albania. His parents established what we now call the Mission Base, or a base-camp for all of the relief aid that they would send over the course of many years.

In the year 2000 my husband and I got married, and about a month later his mom passed away after a long battle with cancer. For about eight years following her death, my husband’s father continued the work at the Mission Base , but two years ago he handed the reins to my husband. Note that my husband definitely doesn’t do it alone. His brothers and many other friends and family who have traveled to the nation over the years still give generously to ensure that the Mission Base is a place to give to those who need so much.

Take a look at this guy and his daughter.


This is Irfan and Fabjola Toska. Irfan is the guy who my husband’s parents coordinated all of this humanitarian work with from the very first trip. So many things have changed since day one, but this man has remained dedicated to helping the people of his country for nearly two decades now. His wife makes the best baklava I have ever tasted and his daughter is the interpreter. Obviously we’re seriously lacking in updated pictures of the Toska family, something we hope to remedy when my husband travels there.

Next Sunday, June 20th, my husband makes his second trip to Albania, nearly 16 years after his original trip with his father. I’m so excited that he’s able to return and refresh his memory of how important this humanitarian effort really is. I’d love to think that I’m dreading next week because I’m going to miss him so much (and I will miss him), but mostly I’m just wishing I could go with him. It’s one thing to be able to give financially, but completely something else to see the faces of the people whose lives are being changed. Let me stop before I cry.

I know there are lots of you out there whom I don’t know personally in this virtual meeting of minds, and if you would like to be a part of what we are doing in Albania, you can click here to give. One hundred percent goes directly to Albania (minus the 3% fee that our lovely American banks claim for credit card use), and all of it is tax deductible.

Dear Handsome Husband: I know you’ll fall in love with Albania all over again, but you must return to your wife. For sanity’s sake.


One response to this post.

  1. Posted by Rebecca on October 15, 2010 at 11:45 am

    Wow i love this site. great idea on creating it 🙂


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