5 more days left in Baguio, where I called home for past 18 months. Walking along the main rd in the city, I was reminded of the very first day I came to this foreign land with one 20kg luggage. What’s built in me is the spirit of settler that constantly leading me to the venture into the places where no one comes to the airport to greet me. I had my due struggle as if the world around doesn’t make sense except myself. Now, I know that I was the odd one that came from nowhere to disrupt the peace and tranquility. Think of the mess-ups and resentments-over-nothings make me chuckle.
I remember the first farewell in Australia which I didn’t take it very well. When days of depression and grief were done, I came out with a realization that our lives are like a bus stop. People come, stay for a while while they are waiting to get on to the bus to their next destination. As their buses arrive, we give them a warm hug and say goodbye. Some may stay shorter, some longer. But all moves on, and in time, our very turn will be coming as well. Some relationships stay connected longer despite of the distance in between, while others may quickly be replaced by new comers.
Although it may not be possible to stay forever with each other, albeit we will in eternity with some of them, we can still choose to make an impact on the lives of others who stay in our bus stops. We remember some people who have made that strong impression in our heart while they were still with us, and some to the extend of changing the shape and direction of our very lives.
What people would remember about us will testify what we leave behind. And to think of that greatly humbles me today.
