On my last birthday, I received the latest Apple laptop, and I am getting ready only now to set it up. Who to call?
Our Philippine Airlines flight got us into Brisbane 40 minutes ahead of schedule. It was mid-morning in Queensland. The weather was perfect; blue skies, warm brilliant sunshine and nippy breezes in the shade.
The children immediately hug their father while his wife tearfully looks on.
My Scholastican schoolmates (GS ’59, HS ’63, College ’67) had vowed we would keep on traveling near and far, for as long as our legs could carry us—and with what we anticipated may be a limited time left, we did so with such a frenzy this past year.
Four times a year my high-school classmates and I get together to celebrate birthdays. I love these reunions. On a good day, there are about 35 of us, plus a few yayas, who gather at a restaurant, all dressed up and armed with our senior citizen cards.
“I’m coming home.” It sounds like the person speaking can hardly get the words out fast enough; like there is a breathless anticipation of good things. It tells me that the traveler is done with roaming. There is a time for traipsing about, and a time to come home. When I set down my bags after a long trip, I have no intentions of picking them up again, at least not right away.
