Little by little, we draw closer to those around us through love, trust and food. There are no magical ingredients that bonds those three items. We wish upon a falling star, and hope to God and pray to God that we are truly who we are. We search for those that take us back to days of peace and understandings of the heart. We talk in unison of times gone by and fill the voids with "How ya' been?" We walk the walk and talk the talk with never to mock. We cry together and laugh like crazy. We pray. We eat. We eat some more. We sprinkle our plates with cilantro, lemon zest and chopped cashews. We grate the nutmeg. We talk of the Caribbean, guava and island skies. The dream scape surroundings are a picture and a painting tied with swirling brushes of cumin, chili powder, mace and curry. The boil of shrimp oh so far away turns up at your doorstep where friends are welcome again and again. The toasted pumpkin seeds float endlessly from the sky, but we never ask why. We dive into spinach, fresh watermelon and balsamic fig dressing. We raise our glasses of Riesling and sip to today. The taste of Basmati is one that lingers, but never fades. We wait for dessert with open arms. The chips of bittersweet float forever down our throat with a touch of pecan and a hint of orange. We hug and tell one another goodbye. We are so blessed. We call and say "Thank you" and ask "Did you make it home okay?" These are the days I count. These are the days I count again and again.