03 June 2011


Last weekend was the 25th reunion of my University musical theatre cabaret group.  From all parts of North America, middle aged singers, musicians and comedy writers, along with their families, travelled to descend upon a quiet college town.  It was a remarkable gathering in so many ways, the most surprising of which was how comfortable it all was.  Everyone was so kind and genuinely happy to be there.  Hugs were sincere and the music and laughter was filled with love - to such a degree that the bartender of the evening portion of the festivities told me he hated to see us leave.  Highlights for me?
  • My old house mate and I, who've not seen each other in twenty years,  picking up where we left off gabbing away without pause.  Even accompanying each other to the ladies room just like the old days. 
  • Visiting two favourite shops and finding them still there, with the same owners!
  • Seeing all the beautiful children my friends have brought into this world at our afternoon softball game.
  • A former beau sweetly holding my hand when I needed it.  Ya, I'm kind of swooning and regretting letting that one get away.
  • Sharing toasts and stories to honour departed friends.
Whenever I visit my alma mater, I always take a familiar walk.  Call it a roots thing.  We begin on the corner in front of the house where I lived for three tumultuous, happy, tragic, crazy  years.

Head south for just a few minutes and we're at the building that used to be university/hospital affiliated doctor's offices.  My doctor had his office here, an office in which I spent many hours learning the skills needed to get through a day.  He was patient and generous.  I credit him with my graduating and miss him still.

Further south on the same sidewalk and we arrive at the hospital.  Yes, I spent a fair bit of time here as well receiving excellent care.  This was before the days when they turfed you out at the earliest opportunity.  I spent a good long while resting and healing and looking out that fourth floor window to... 

 ...this part of the lake.  Of course it was winter then so it looked a little different.  In the summer, I'd walk down here at night and wade when it was too hot to sleep.  I stood here last Saturday and felt that no time had passed at all.  I'm so vastly different than I was back then yet still so much the same.  I  return to the water.  I live near a different part of that same lake today and walk or ride down there often.  It brings me peace.

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