I never believed in reincarnation. As a catholic boy growing up I guess it was not in the Monday after-school catechism teachings.
However, lately I have come to realize there are certain people in my life that I have connected with instantly. As if in another life, centuries ago, we were centurions serving the Roman Empire, or in a family band touring the original 13 colonies by horse and buggy. Maybe field workers on the Isles of Britain, or were brothers and sisters from a remote section of Kenya. Perhaps long lost friends or lovers that used to bask in the creation of our latest Baroque style masterpieces from the year 1652. Whichever the case, I’m glad to know these old souls now. To be reintroduced to them again, for the first time. To hug at every hello… and goodbye. To feel like every time you break bread it’s like a warm Christmas Eve at Grandma’s house. To be loved. Will the next time be the last time I lock smiles, eyes or arms with these reincarnation buddies? Most likely not. We may not see each other that often, but I take comfort in knowing that at one point in the past we spent a lot of time together. A small bit of solace to ease the trepidation until next we meet.