Leaving the Job, Not the Friends

One aspect of retirement that Greg and I have never considered is moving. After 29 years (for me) and I-won't-say-how-many years for Greg, who was born here, Nashville is home. It's not just the city, even though it's a very liveable town with a lot of great things to do—new restaurants every day, it seems; excellent theater and music of all kinds; beautiful countryside around us; affordable living—it's the people more than anything else that make the idea of leaving impossible.

I got to see a lot of my friends at the amazing retirement party that Lori and her daughter Natalie threw for me last weekend.

Hard to believe it of such gorgeous women, but they're even nicer than they are beautiful!

 
Lori and I are homies from New York's Hudson Valley, and we're both Italian-American (she's 100%; I'm only 25%, but it's a dominant 25%). She's an amazing cook—check out that spread!

 

Greg and I felt like we were posing for our prom pictures.

I really do have wonderful friends at the day job. I've known some for as long as I've been at Vanderbilt . . .

. . . others are more recent.

Trying to respond to a lovely toast from Lori, under Mary Nell's watchful eye.

The guest list included no "duty" invitations; everyone there was dear to me.