"The Waiting is Over"

I am now a retired person.  That ontological change took place last night at midnight.  I expected the countdown clock on my computer desk top — which has been patiently measuring my progress in tenths of a week — to celebrate this event with a bit of pomp and circumstance.  I imagined an alarm bell worthy of a firehouse, or perhaps a few moments of virtual fireworks in six million colors.  Instead, after reminding me all day that I was 99.9% of the way, at the denouement the clock silently switched its message from "You will retire in..." to "The waiting is over."  Not even an "!".  Nothing went thump in the night.

The retirement dinner this past Wednesday was great fun.  With stealth worthy of the CIA, the crew at St. John's arranged the attendance of my brother Brad ("Fr. Br.") from Virginia, and friends Sharon and Attila from Presque Isle and Helen and Jon from Detroit.  I was totally blindsided!  The Walborns were most gracious to put up, and put up with all these strangers.  The feast was superb — deliciously cooked by the Hospitality gang, capably served by the Youth, and expertly cleaned up afterwards by the Men's Group.  The gifts from the parish were thoughtful and deeply appreciated.  The roast — surely more restrained than I deserved — included my brother's memory of the Culver Summer Horsemanship School horse show in 1961.  I made a brief appearance in the jumping competition.  My horse refused as I tried to take him over a brush jump, throwing me over his head.  Alas, the greenery on and around the jump proved to be poison ivy.  I ended up with a solid sheet of it from my left hand up to and across my face.  That made for a miserable couple of weeks!  But I must have immunized myself, because I've never been bothered by poison ivy since.  Here are a few photos from the retirement dinner:

The Brothers Laycock

(L to R) Jon, Sharon, Attila, and Helen (with Brad in the background)

Senior Warden Gillian and friend Paul

The Parish Hall filled to capacity with good friends

Rebecca (She Who Parks In My Parking Space) and Cindi (She Who Must Be Obeyed)

Fr. Br. telling of my teenage equestrian escapades

Trying to talk Eva into serving as a Lector, with Dad Dave's approval

Robert and Dave

All told, it was a wonderfully memorable night — truly an agape meal.  My heartfelt thanks to all who had a hand in this! •••