One of the most distinct memories I have of Kindergarten is being the last remaining student to be picked up from school. Every day I dreaded this time, because my playmates would be plucked away from our after school games by their parents, guardians or nannies, and I was left alone on the cold marble floors of the huge, dark, waiting area. I detested this time so much that half way through my day at school, I would start crying. “Why are you crying?” I remember my teacher asking me one time. “Because I’ll be picked up late again, and I’ll be all alone,” I answered through my tears.
A few weeks before my sisters arrived in Basel for my Wedding last week, I felt that familiar pang of dread—knowing that after the fun and festivities of the wedding party and our family reunion, they would one by one leave and go back to their respective families and homes, and I would be left all alone. The painful thing about reunions, after all, is that you have to part ways in the end. Ugh.
But how can one enjoy the present when one keeps anticipating the future? Realizing this, I threw all foreboding out the window and decided to simply enjoy the moment. And you know what? The moment I did that, the more I could sink my teeth into the sweetness of our reunion. Whether it was as memorable hearing them sing a tribute to me on my wedding day, or as mundane as waiting for the tram to arrive at our stop—every second was magical.
And at the end of it all, I realized that even if my family members would be slowly plucked away from our play time, I would not be left alone. I’m joined by my wonderful husband whom I have a new life to build with, and who reassures me that the end of this family reunion only means there is another one ahead.