60th Nursing School Reunion or How Did We Get This Old?

. . . we take our leave after cake and coffee with tight throats, warm hugs, and moist eyes, to say our long good-byes.

WE

. . . sit at a long table facing multiple pieces of silverware, cloth napkins, sweet tea, and wine and lit by the wall sconces in the restaurant of a historic hotel in Cape May, New Jersey, delighting in the aromas of clam bisque, arugula salad, beef tenderloin and scallops.

. . . scan aging faces with familiar voices, exchanging pieces of our lives since our last reunion five years ago, attentive to each other’s tragedies and blessings.

. . . listen to the reunion organizer tell us stories sent by those not present, sad for their absence but joyful that the seven of us in advancing years made the trip, some in the company of daughters or friends.

. . . share the inner need to reconnect to the women with whom we have spent three years in our youth as we followed the call to care for others in sickness, childbirth, injury and at the end of life’s journey, transforming immature girls to strong, skilled nurses. 

. . . come back to where we started, in the company of our peers, with whom we lived in the nurses’ residence of Saint Peter’s Hospital School of Nursing and graduated 60 years ago, joining hands in a circle in the school gym singing the Kingston Trio song, Scotch and Soda, before we marched into the cathedral for the bishop to bless us as new nurses.

. . . grip the bonds that may have faded but did not weaken in camaraderie as we take our leave after cake and coffee with tight throats, warm hugs, and moist eyes, to say our long good-byes. 

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