ROAD TRIPPING IN SOUTH FLORIDA

Driving down the toll road from the Ft Lauderdale airport to my former next-door neighbor's house recently brought happy anticipation mixed with sadness. It had been almost 4 years since I drove in South Florida. It was my first time back since retiring and moving to another state. Each mile brought a particular memory of the 12 years I had spent in the area. I wanted to see dear friends I badly missed and one adored friend lying in a coma. Little did I know then that she would die shortly after I told her goodbye one last time. I thought about other friends I would not see because they had died in the past three years. Had I known that I would not be seeing them again in this lifetime, I would have hugged them a little tighter and expressed gratitude to them for being in my life.

My former neighborhood is unchanged, but the surrounding area, once part of the Everglades decades ago, is filled with new housing developments, golf courses, and businesses. People have replaced alligators, but the occasional alligator still knocks on some doors while hundreds of non-indigenous iguanas sun themselves alongside the many canals winding throughout the area.   A few miles east lay the ocean, which lost the lure for me after living next to it for a few years before I retired. I loved to walk along the sea before sunrise and watch as the sun slowly rose and cast beams of golden light across the sparkling blue-green waters of the Atlantic. It was a memorable experience, but this trip was about friends, not the scenery.

The first-morning walk in my old neighborhood was filled with thoughts of the dog I used to take with me as we made the three-mile loop. How Buddy loved those walks and barking at every dog encountered. Unfortunately, he had a nasty habit of biting people who reached down to pet him while he wagged his tail, a false enticement led to a potential nip as the person petting him withdrew their hand. This was a practice Buddy probably acquired after being beaten as a puppy before a rescue organization fostered him. I adopted him, not knowing about his past other than having a crippled leg from an encounter with a car. The injured leg was rehabilitated. The trauma Buddy likely experienced as a puppy was never overcome. Tried as I may, I couldn't train or love him into normalcy. After biting the eighth person, I had to make the tough decision to have Buddy euthanized…a choice that still haunts me after 8 long years. Doing the right thing despite personal pain is one of the hardest things we all face at one time or another.

All four days were filled with seeing old friends and colleagues. I had lost regular contact with most of them, but we took up where we had left off when we saw each other. It was like I never left, as we enjoyed reminiscing and "catching up" with what had transpired over the past 4 years. My former boss, who retired a few months after I did, has become a close friend along with his wife. While in Florida, we attended another colleague's retirement party at the hospital, where I saw many of my favorite former co-workers and employees. The hugs we shared recharged me and took away any lingering sadness.

My former next-door neighbors, Luni and Louise, have been dear friends for many years. We had a gate installed in the fence that separated our backyards when I lived next to them. We freely visited each other in our pajamas and were undetected by nosey neighbors. Luni and Louise enjoyed exercising in my pool, and I loved cooking on their screened-in patio. Luni and I have stayed in close contact almost daily over the years. Her constant support and enduring love have sustained me during those occasional roller coaster rides that come with living a whole life. 

When my nephew was a young child, he announced that he would build a huge house when he became wealthy and all of his loved ones could live in it. We all laughed at his dream, but wouldn't it be wonderful if we could live our entire lives close to our beloved friends and family?