Departing Formosa Argentina early in the morning aroused old emotion laden memories of a similar trip almost forty-one years ago. Becki and I, along with baby Jonathan were in route to Asuncion Paraguay by bus to catch a plane back to the United States. Images of an old crowed bus, military checkpoints, getting through customs and crossing the Paraguay River filled my mind.
And now, here I was following the same route, on the same bus line doing the same thing again with Jonathan and Anthony. It feels good, but it feels strange.