Sleeping in your own bed is not just for 2 year olds!

Rule #1 - when you are not returning home for the night remember your drugs! Still a novitiate at this pill regimen I forgot to bring my Angel pills with me yesterday and spent the night tossing and turning trying to sleep - albeit in my old room at 94. Between the cat rush hour coming in and out of the room to visit the Cat Man, the different sounds of the city (oh, I'm such a country mouse) and the non-effects of the SleepyTime tea, it was one of those frustrating events. I did, however, replay what was a wonderful day over and over in my mind into the wee hours - from realizing I had not forgotten my glasses halfway to the city and didn`t have to turn around to go get them, to Kathleen`s wonderful charred burgers to Harry Potter 5. Whether the steriods, chemo 'battery acid' or just my plain old garden variety menopause, the night ticked away as I reviewed the wonderful retirement party for Wendy that afternoon. Dave works for one of those rare, lovely companies where employees are more like family, treated with respect and honoured when due - so do I but that`s another story for another day. Dave's actually worked their twice - as have quite a few of the staff. In the 80's, then a brief respite in Corporate Canada, then back 'home' as he calls it. Bob and Susan, the wonderful, caring delightful owners of PI feted one of their own as she reluctantly hung up her Accounts Receivable journals (yes, the original was there for all of us oldies that remember manual journal entries!) to join the land of the retiree. A beautiful day, lots of good friends and food, many funny stories and a tearful farewell on both sides. Wendy will be visiting Jolly Old as her parting gift but I know we`ll see her again at the annual events to catch up on what she`s doing. I`m not the philosophical type. Oh, I try sometimes to get ethereal, deep and thoughtful but I usually forget what Ì`m trying to be philosophical about and go throw in a load of laundry. However, I am endlessly sentimental and shed a tear or two as Bob struggled to say `farewell, not goodbye` to someone he genuinely cares about. A softie is Bob and through this adventure I am honoured to classified as one of `his girls`. He`s seen too many of us go down this road but his humour, big warm hugs and ever present caring are always there in your mind in the worst of times. I honestly feel sad for any woman travelling this road that does not have this kind of support network in her circle. Lucky me.