Social Life? I Think I Remember ...

As the years flow along--sometimes placidly, sometimes not--my social life (such as it was) has diminished. Student years, career(s)--all featured opportunities for me to, in one sense or another, "party on."

My mom and dad used to have good friends--and always seemed to be doing things. Until they no longer did. By the time they were near the end of their lives (1999, Dad; 2018, Mom), their "social lives" comprised conversations with aides in nursing homes and visits from their sons and their families.

I'm not quite there yet--getting closer with every breath, of course (as are all of the rest of you--so don't go all arrogant on me!).

But here's a strange thing I've found: I like being with Joyce, like being by myself. For weeks on end. Months, even. (Not counting coffee-shop encounters, of course!)

Yet every now and then ... stuff happens. My calendar pages, normally fairly empty (except for visits to doctors), somewhat fill up.

Let's take this week:

• Thursday evening I drove over to the Aurora Inn for the induction of a former teaching colleague, Ted Linden, into the Honored Educator Hall of Fame, an award recently created by the Aurora Alumni Association. A dinner. A program. Speeches. Some tears. (You know.) I got to see and sit with some dear former colleagues--got to see and talk with some wonderful former students--got to have a free meal (eschewed dessert: I have standards!).
• Friday evening, Joyce and I had dinner with some good friends here in Hudson--over at the Thai Gourmet in Stow (a place we really enjoy). Lots of laughter and stories and affection.
• In about an hour I will head over to Aurora to a coffee shop to meet with some former students who are in town for Aurora High's homecoming weekend. Some of them I have not seen in many, many years. I'm looking forward to it.

And--I have to say--this week has wiped me out. My Social Battery is about out of juice, and I know (from Sad Experience) that if I do much more, I will regret it. I'm on some energy-sapping meds, and they don't mess around. And I've learned (the Hard Way) that I should not mess around--too much.

The Good News: I've had a very good time. More Good News: Nothing "on" next week except for a doctor's visit.

Back to normal.

But with some fond memories to hold me over till next time when the Calendar Gods decide it's time to get me out of the house.