Tonight I assembled with friends, many I haven't seen in decades. We met to catch up, to remember the days when we all lived and served in Denmark. When we lived there we were basically kids and grandparents, each there for different reasons, but also for one unifying reason.
In my culture/religion we go on missions. We grow up, especially the young men, thinking about where we'll serve. My friends and I traveled to every corner of the world, basically doing the same thing. And tonight many of us who were called to serve in Denmark gathered. We ate, we visited, we discussed our families and jobs. And by the simple act of being together, we affirmed a love for a country and a people we all miss dearly.
After dinner we posed for a group photo. That's when I grabbed my camera and tried getting some shots. We're older, and (in general...) larger, and a full head of hair has been something many of us can only vaguely remember. But the memories of our days, weeks and years in a land across the ocean binds us in a way nothing else could. Tonight we assembled and memories of our past returned.