What Takes Twenty-three Years to Happen?

Well, twenty-three years, of course. In that amount of time, sixteen-year-olds become thirty-nine. A thirty-two-year-old becomes … never mind that part. A lot happens in that many years. And for those of us who wander about like some sort of lost Gypsies, a lot of ground gets covered as well.

Which leads me to share about an unlikely reunion.

It was 1993 when we left Alaska. My growing family, two cats, and all of our worldly possessions were bundled into the Warthog and the Getwangefargen, and we headed for America.

Some people don't get it that Alaskans feel isolated from the mainland, and we probably will never be able to explain it, so just take that at face value. As for the funny names, the Warthog was our '75 Dodge Power Wagon, full time 4x4, which was seemingly indestructible. It was ugly, with more rust than steel, but it never quit. The Getwangefargen was our boat. Trust me on this one, there's a long story to the name. And all of our worldly possessions really amounted to a bunch of junk we held on to. Some things never change.

It was a sad departure in many ways, not the least of which was leaving behind friends whom we had acquired and grown to love during those years. But, after many years, twenty-three actually, and unimaginable circumstances, we were able to reconnect with some of those old friends in Memphis, Tennessee, of all places.

It was our son's senior recital at Visible Music College, just a week ago. Our friends saw the information on Facebook. Yes, I know it's fashionable to hate on Facebook, but we have had a number of good things come about from the popular social media site.

Meanwhile, our friends had relocated to a southern state. And since they were within striking distance of Memphis, they decided to meet us there. It was a fabulous time which brought forth a flash flood of memories. I'm sure I shed a few tears during the weekend.

So I present this nostalgic little tidbit as a peek into my world. Kay and daughter Grace are pictured here with us. Often, in Alaska, we did our laundry at Kay's house. And Grace used to babysit our kids. There are so many more stories to this story, so stay tuned.

As an odd piece of trivia, the room we were in was called the Green Room because it is the prep room for the musicians before they go on stage. The name apparently has nothing to do with its actual color.