12 hours to go

Conference over. Pout sniffle. No fair that a global village means saying goodbye so much.

Goodbye to my first pint at a real pub, to every accent but my own, to gawdawful early rising and ridiculously late bedtimes, to sushi and scones, the Albert Hall, competent cabbies, to queuing, looking both ways and still being confused, to being a 'love' and talking about leptin, to passing notes at lectures, to the universal language of rolling one's eyes, to applauding for fiesty moms, the Shakespeare restaurant, and all the people I admire from several time zones who I hugged today.

To Fiona and Charlotte and Chris and June and Susan and Gary, especially - and that's just tonight.

I'm dedicating my farewells tonight to the mum and dad across from me at lunch bowed by the same exhausting wind but despite it all and the unfairness refuse to fall down. Sitting there together you struck me as the bravest of the brave, though I know every day is so hard. That is perhaps when true courage is shown-and at that table every one of us saw that in you and understood. I have a feeling that today may mark a new phase.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry


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