On the fly

It seems at times that all we can manage are flying visits.

Arrangements had been made for at least a few weeks, but as to the length of my stay, that had to be curtailed because of the responsibilities that keep this world moving. This was another case though of quality instead of quantity.

Arriving in the Nation's Capital on Sunday evening, it was only a matter of moments after touchdown before old friends were re-aquainted, this time after a period of some seven + years, but like all good friends, time seems to evaporate when we meet face to face, and the stories flow like a primed pump as the lives of otherwise separated souls get reaquainted. These are the stories told around the table, and long into the night. These are the stories told in fleeting visits and in lingering conversations that seem not to want to come to an end.

There's always room for new adventures to be recounted in this kind of meeting too: loves lost and found, new life that is celebrated as it should, and the heart-felt struggles that are more than commonplace for those who face major changes in life.

All too soon, such visits always come to an end, and life continues as the renewed waves of responsibility come crashing in. Like the constantly moving tides, life continues, and we can always dream of the next time when stories will be shared, friends will gather, and lives will intertwine.