reunions

At this point, I have traveled with people who are ahead of me and people who are behind me. Wherever I end up, I am bound to see some people I know, whether it be a trio of 50-something South Africans or a foursome of laughing 60-something Canadian women or three Canadians or one of my two sets of British brothers or any one of a number of the inevitable Germans. Some people I know well. They have bandaged my blisters or shared difficult stories or hearty laughs with me. Some of them I only know in passing, only enough to know what language (if any) we speak in common.

Regardless, when we see one another, it´s like a reunion, like we have been apart for years instead of weeks or days. The truly interesting part is, though, that as easily as we come together, we separate again. Sometimes we are together for minutes or days. Sometimes we only are apart for an hour and then we later meet up a week in the future.

Letting go is not my forte, but here, it is much easier. Mostly, I just trust that I will see people again, that if we are meant to find one another, we will. And when we do, there will be merriment.