Hundreds of elderly Koreans, some in wheelchairs or leaning on walking sticks, began three days of reunions Tuesday with loved ones many have had no contact with since war divided the North and South more than 60 years ago.
About 390 South Koreans traveled to the North's scenic Diamond Mountain resort. They brought long johns, medicine, parkas, calligraphy works and cash to give as presents to about 140 family members in the North.
South Korean Lee Ok-yeon, 88, will reunite with her husband for the first time in 65 years. She lives in the same house her husband, also now 88, built and that the couple shared as newlyweds.
Her grandson Chae Jeong-jae told South Korean reporters that Lee had "asked whether it was a dream or a reality" when she was told she would attend the reunions.
Lee Dong-im, 94, who is to be reunited with her brother-in-law, said before the reunions that she was "choked with tears."

In a second round, from Saturday until Monday, about 250 South Koreans are to visit the mountain resort to reunite with about 190 North Korean relatives, the South's Unification Ministry said.
The reunions, the first since February of last year, are a poignant yet bitter reminder that the Korean Peninsula is still in a technical state of war because the 1950-53 fighting ended with an armistice, not a peace treaty. The Koreas bar ordinary citizens from visiting relatives living on the other side of the border and even from exchanging letters, phone calls and emails without permission.
North and South agreed in August to resume family reunions during talks to end a standoff that began when land mine blasts blamed on Pyongyang maimed two South Korean soldiers. The rivals have a history of failing to follow through with cooperation agreements. These reunions may have been in danger had North Korea gone through with threats to conduct a satellite launch earlier this month. The launch would have likely canceled the reunions because Seoul and Washington see such firings as cover for banned tests of long-range missile technology.
The reunions are extremely emotional because most people who apply for them are elderly and desperate to see their loved ones before they die. Nearly half of the 130,410 South Koreans who have applied to attend a reunion have died.

Oh Cheol-ran, a 77-year-old South Korean, said that before her parents died they always tearfully spoke of her brother who was left in the North. "I'm so happy to see him even now. I haven't been able to sleep well," said Oh, who was dressed in a traditional hanbok.
South Korea uses a computerized lottery system to pick participants while NorthKorea reportedly chooses based on loyalty to its authoritarian leadership.
Seoul has long called for a big increase in the number of people taking part in reunions and holding them more regularly. North Korea, which often uses reunions as a bargaining chip in negotiations with South Korea, is worried about more reunions leading to the country being influenced by the more affluent South and undermining its grip on power.
At the same time, the venue for the reunions may reveal something about NorthKorea's aspirations. The Diamond Mountain resort, largely built with South Korean money, was once a major tourist draw. It brought in nearly 2 million visitors, mostly South Koreans, and provided the government with much needed hard currency. That all ended when a North Korean soldier shot a South Korean tourist to death in 2008. Impoverished North Korea no doubt wants to restart tours.
Family reunions were part of a slew of now-stalled rapprochement projects the twoKoreas agreed upon following first-ever summit talks between their leaders in 2000. About 18,800 Koreans have since participated in 19 face-to-face reunions and about 3,750 others have been reunited by video.