On the Road
I had an interesting experience, yesterday. I drove my Mother to a reunion with a group of college friends, who had their traditional yearly dinner together at Boone Tavern, in Berea, Kentucky. (She graduated in 1955, a year later than the others due to family matters. They were twelve Freshmen who for whatever reason started palling around together. They called themselves The Dirty Dozen, years before the movie.)
They started these reunions in 1985. A third of them are now dead (with one missing). No reunion has seen all of them attend, and less than half were there yesterday. While they were cheerful and enjoyed themselves, all were well aware this might be the last time some of them attend.
Not intending to sound morbid, here, but keep your friends and family in mind and get together with them whenever you can. Regardless of age or state of health.
They started these reunions in 1985. A third of them are now dead (with one missing). No reunion has seen all of them attend, and less than half were there yesterday. While they were cheerful and enjoyed themselves, all were well aware this might be the last time some of them attend.
Not intending to sound morbid, here, but keep your friends and family in mind and get together with them whenever you can. Regardless of age or state of health.
