I got a package of chocolates from Korea today—the chocolate Monica made.  There was a letter from her daughter that said Monica had made these for me before she passed away.  Posthumous bonbons, so delicious, I cried when I opened the box—the note and it’s contents might have had something to do with it too.

“I read your blog post today…You know so much about my Mom, her plan, her dreams…I printed it out and put it next to her picture…I translated it into Korean in case of difficult words which she would not know.”

It’s kind of an odd feeling to know when these are gone, there will be no more.  I can say definitively this is the last time I will have these chocolates.  How often can you say that about something?  When do you know, without a doubt, whatever it is you are doing or eating or hearing will be the final call?  It’s pretty rare I think and makes eating them a little bitter sweet.  But mostly sweet.

Even some months after being home, my Korean experience continues to grow and evolve.