Our recent schedule has been filled to the brim with friends and family. Happily so.
First connection. As is true for many in our age cohort, social plans are often constructed around a meal. “So, can you meet us for dinner sometime next week/month/etc.?” For instance, Paula and I recently met a friend from college years and her husband, a clergy couple, for dinner at a favorite Twin Cities restaurant. (Foreshadowing… she officiated at our son’s wedding over the Labor Day weekend.) Early in the evening, based on several meetings with the nuptial couple, she praised our son warmly… wonderful affirmation. We’re excited about attending their daughter’s wedding next month.
Second connection. We seek to connect annually with longtime friends now living in Maine. As mobility issues have surfaced for him, we travel there. (Maine in August? Glorious!) With her, we hiked several interesting trails in the Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge. Together, we four made our regular stop at the Portland Museum of Art and explored the Maine Maritime Museum in Bath. We dined at three favorite dining establishments and met other friends also enjoying a Maine adventure at restaurants new to us.
Third connection. One “other friends” meal was with someone I hadn’t seen for fifty years. Joanne is a colleague from the National Federation of Students of German (NFSG), an organization I was involved with during late high school and early college years, having attended conventions in Kansas, Pennsylvania, Indiana, and Colorado. Meeting and making friends from across the country was vitally important to my gradually expanding world view. After five decades, our lunch included considerable “time travel”. Names surfaced; faces flashed fleetingly. (They’ll all be pleased that in my mind’s eye, they haven’t aged a bit!)
One peripheral memory of my NFSG involvement: In 1972, Munich hosted the Summer Olympics. Through my NFSG association, I was mailed several tubes of large promotional Olympics posters, 25 in each package, highlighting specific athletic competitions. I decorated bedroom walls, carried some to high school, probably taped up a few in my college dorm room. Perhaps 40 remaining posters were stashed in a back closet at my parents’ home for 20, maybe 30, years before being tossed. Checking eBay, these posters currently list for an average price of $250 each. Sigh.
Fourth connection. Ethan and Lauren got married on Labor Day Saturday! (Yeah, I buried the lede.) Our son and his new bride opted for a small outdoor ceremony on the shore of Lake Minnetonka, west of Minneapolis, in Lauren’s grandparents’ expansive yard. A spectacular setting! Three granddaughters were charming flower girls; our grandson was a handsome ring bearer. It was a joy to meet Lauren’s family. As this photo attests, there’s something remarkably compelling about outdoor weddings.
Our Chicago family -- two daughters, their husbands, two children each -- spent the wedding weekend with us at the “Urban Cabin,” a half-hour drive from the ceremony. While somewhat crowded with ten of us, four youngsters made it fun. The marriage of our third of three children represents a rite of passage for Paula and me. While it might be another decade (… or more, note two paragraphs above) before all Ethan’s possessions are removed from parental storage, nevertheless, our children are launched, happily married, with significant careers. We’re immensely proud of them and our grandkids they’ve brought into the world.
I wrote the first draft of this column in early September, on Dad’s 94th birthday. About three months before Dad died, now almost two years ago, Ethan took his then-girlfriend to North Iowa to meet Dad… his Grandpa Loren. On Labor Day weekend, we formally welcomed another Lauren into our family (albeit a different gender and spelling) and I recall Dad’s enthusiastic approval.
Political and cultural commentator David Brooks suggests we refer to our current phase of life -- basically, ages 60 to 90 -- as the “Encore Years”. Concert performers often hold a special crowd-pleaser in reserve, anticipating an encore… truly, saving the best for last. This thought and anticipating additional connections with friends and family mean I look ahead with a song in my heart.
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I’m pleased to be part of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative. A list of my colleagues…