There is a long path of earth that separates us–me on the east coast, you on the west. In our former life, the distance was marked by just a few steps of hallway.
This is the good hard of growing up–you cleaving to your family and me to mine.
The reunions are sweet, and a reminder of all we shared. You were my first friend.
And though a continent divides us now, we multiplied joys in the space of a week.
The farewell is fresh and my throat is tight as I write. The plane climbs with the spin of the earth, headlong to the east. I am going home, back to those familiar rhythms of life as I know it. But I am somehow changed, my heart full of the abundance of all we’ve shared.