My friend Barb is recently retired as well, in her case from a career as a physician. When we met at Whitman College in the fall of 1969 she dreamed of becoming a nurse. A decade later she was an OB-GYN practicing in Portland and Vancouver. She married her high school sweetheart, also a doctor, and they raised two children. I raised my remarkable daughter. Our careers were demanding. There was little time for friendship.
But we bonded (rebonded?) at a college reunion a few years ago, and haven’t looked back. We have more in common than just memories — we each have a married daughter and grandchildren in Washington DC, so we are headed to see our babies. We are avid crafters, although she is more intrepid than I (Who lays a hardwood floor by herself in her seventies?! Who does that?) We love to read and started a book club a few years ago. We both spent today in our gardens, so our neighbors will have something pleasant to see out their windows while we’re gone. As we embark on this trip, I leave behind my cute husband and she leaves her cute cat. We have a detailed itinerary that can be thrown out the window at any time. I will try hard to stop apologizing for how messy I was when we shared a dorm room in the Delta Gamma section of Prentiss Hall in 1971. We will sing Carole King and Motown songs. We will visit siblings and cruise houses from our childhoods, eat fried oysters in Pittsburgh, swim in Lake Michigan, toss out improv comedy suggestions in Chicago, and spend the night with a sorority sister whose name cannot be mentioned because she spent her career following in the footsteps of James Bond. There is a remote possibility we will visit the official Spam museum. Wish us luck. Wave if you see us speed by.
