hello.hello.hola.

I have a really great downstairs neighbor - she asks good questions, she listens carefully in our conversations, she says yes to last minute dinner invites when I run into her at the park . . .

She checked in on me when we got home from our trip last week.  "How was it?" she asked me over a cup of tea.  So we talked.  I told her how beautiful it had been - about the friends we spent time with, the conversations we had, about my family and our time at the river house.

And I told her about that heart-ache that I get every time I leave a visit with my friends and family in another country - because there is never enough time; there are always conversations that are left incomplete (and those are better than the ones that were not even started),  always nieces or nephews that I didn't get enough time to snuggle with . . .  always coffees that had to end too soon.

(She gets it.  My neighbor has friends all over the world; she has to say goodbye a lot too)

Then, in the course of our conversation, I remembered:
This is why my heart longs for eternity.
It won't always be this way.