I have come to realize that a group of people whom share an experience, such as living in Libya, are forever connected. Although those times are now decades in the past the memories are always simmering in my heart. When I hear from someone I knew so long ago it is not just a "someone I used to know" connection... it is an instant heart connection. Something deep in my spirit and soul that shakes me in some way. I don't remember all the details of those days, but I do remember the people and the footprints they left that I still walk beside. I wonder if they all feel that way? Not necessarily in regards to me but in regards to someone that they knew at that time in their life. When communicating it seems as if no time has slipped by, yes, we have aged but in a way that childhood connection is still there. A stand by each other no matter what feeling. The desire to instantly be next to someone in their hour of need. The ability to give them a hug or hold a hand during rough waters. The chance to hold them and say - it is alright to cry right now. Those tears of secrets never shared or tears to be shared with the world because of the ache deep in the soul. For some reason the touch of Libya changed us all in ways I certainly don't understand to this day... but they are good ways. I don't much remember anything "bad" from those days of my life. We lived where we lived and I cherish those days. Even in such a country with some limits there were the childhood freedoms of playing and dancing and singing to one's own song. Perhaps more so there than if I had been in the U.S. during those growing years. The cultural experiences so diverse and communication often beginning in something other than a shared language.
Yesterday I was told that one of my dearest friends from those days had passed on to heaven. My heart stopped and skipped a beat. It even took a moment for me to process. We hadn't talked since I was a teenager when they had come to visit us in Wisconsin. A few brief notes on facebook... but still in my heart there is a sadness that the world has lost a soul so few will ever know. What a gift I was given and I grieve for the years that we could have shared but lost over time and distance. Separation. When we all left Libya there was very few ways to communicate long distances. Calling was obviously out, no computer, all that was left was pen to paper... I can't think of many children then teenagers who valued the effect of a hand written letter from anyone. How I wish it was different even then. That connections with people were so strong it would be impossible to exist without communication. The technological age has made that different; we can communicate more easily... but the magical touch of a hand written letter in my hand can never be matched.
Zoe, my love, thank you for the footprints you have left by my side all these years. I'll miss knowing you are here.
Peace and love my friend,
Gretchen
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