My Uncle Bob* died last week. The funeral was in Sioux City at my old church. Most of the members were there, except 30 years older from the last time I saw them. I made the rounds at the tables during lunch and told everyone about Iowa Specialty Hospitals & Clinics. I also checked out the neighborhoods and buildings and everything is different - not necessarily good, just different. The energy of my hometown church though with people who've loved and cared for me my whole life, was extremely comforting.
On Saturday we had a mini reunion of sorts. My friend Kirsten and her band (Kriss - the guitar player) came up from Phoenix and played at a Run for Cancer and then at a cool hipster bar that night. Again, I made my rounds and talked about Iowa Specialty Hospitals & Clinics. Again, thirty years later - we all have aged** but we were able to pull out the memories and we laughed and carried on like high schoolers. (Minus the Boonesfarm Wine and 80's clothes.)
I guess what I'm saying is that you can't go home literally as time changes all things. But you can go home to good friends and pick up on life as if you were a kid again. I love this about life. A good friend - who obviously celebrated heavily while watching the Iowa game, professed her undying love for me at least 18 times. I was somewhat honored until some of my classmates told me she told them the same. Then later, she was overheard professing her love to everyone in the bar. (Again, 18 and Boonesfarm wine - not a lot different with this one.)
*In French class the only phrase I knew how to say was "j'ai un bob oncle" ... I have an Uncle Bob. Now my three years of French are down the drain.
- Steve Simonin, President & CEO