On the Run
My friend Lucy facetiously says that Tony and I are on the run.
In a way we are: Four major US cities in one month, not including the other lesser known cities we visit along the way.
How glorious, how precious, what grace, to see Lucy again after many years—on Easter Sunday! We agreed to meet at a Krispy Kreme in the outskirts of LA after lunch. It was a 15-minute drive for me, one hour for Lucy.
She had instructed Jess to take a photo of the precise moment when she and I met again. Naturally, Jess—very much like Tony—always takes instructions as suggestions. When we saw each other, Lucy and I shrieked, hugged, and giggled, but no photo.
The photo would come later, after we have wolfed down our dessert and ready to say our good-byes and run.
It was a three-and-a-half hour chat, too short to catch up on everything, but we are on the run, remember? Our hosts planned on taking us out to a barbecue dinner with the members of their clan.
Lucy summed up our meeting on her FB page hours later, “Grace and I talked our heads off—our husbands mere garnishing.”
Years ago, travelling for me was visiting tourist spots and shopping. Not this time around. Tourist spots could easily be found on the Net and shopping could be done when we get home.
“Are you on tour?” asks a lady, who must have noticed we are not locals.
“We’re on people tour,” I reply.
She wrinkles her nose.
And so we are on the run—to the next city and the next—each stop to meet those from whom we were separated by time, space, and life’s choices.