not an organ recital...

 The title surely requires some explanation. The phrase was shared with me by a very dear friend  who noted that as we reach a certain age our conversations, particularly with long-time friends, turn to a listing of our various aches and pains, our treatments and surgeries, our medications, and of course our failing organs. "I got heart problems" "I had to have my gall bladder out""my kidney stones are killing me" and on and on...

This is not about that conversation, but more importantly about the friends with whom we are comfortable sharing our stories. In June I had a seizure that took me off the road for 6 months. Anyone who has had their driving privileges suspended knows how difficult and limiting that can be. During this aggravating time I once said ala Blanche DuBois, "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." But that has not been so. I have come to recognize the genuine kindness of friends who are willing to go out of their way to help. Friends have made this difficult time less lonely, less isolating, less painful. When first thinking of this I realized how many people had helped by being there, joining me for lunch, getting me to the golf course, keeping me engaged. Ed, Frank, Larry, Kurt, Bill, Ted, Jeff, John and John, Cliff, Matt, Steve and Kevin, Karen and Jenni. Each has played a part in keeping my spirits up for the past six months. That is not to say that time with Terri, Caitlin, AJ, Thomas, Ashley, Craig, Colleen, Addy, Elise, Helena (bunnie), William, and Sophie has not been a joy, but I never want to be a burden or an obligation. 

We might not always recognize the power of friendship. I have come to a new appreciation in reconnecting with a close friend from close to 50 years ago. Honestly, I was concerned as I had not heard from him in a very long time, nor could I find anyone who had news of his whereabouts. he reached out after news of my presidency appeared in an alumni article and reconnected. Our recent conversations have covered a lot of ground from our mutual interest in music (we like to think that we were alternative or grunge before it became a thing) and our divergent paths to where we are today. We have both come to a place of self-discovery, and perhaps most importantly self-forgiveness. We cannot undo the wrongs we have committed, but we can atone and perhaps make existential amends by focusing on those things we do in the future, how we live our lives moving forward, He and I have, in my parlance, chosen "helping professions", he in nursing and I in education. As I listened to him tell about his path back from the precipice I was relieved to find that he had come to this place of freedom and relief. His peace gives me hope and promise for others in my sphere. 

With the coming holidays I hope to maintain a spirit of gratitude, kindness, patience and forgiveness. Doing otherwise IS a burden I do not wish to carry.