We went to London, Ontario for Margaret’s thirty-year reunion of her nursing class. I met a lot of these lifetime caregivers. You could look at their hands, eyes, and listen to them and wonder how many people these good girls had helped.
The spouses didn’t know each other.
At the motel most met for the first time. We shared the motel mostly with a traveling German band. Lots of tubas. “Oompah” practicing everywhere. In those “Sound of Music” shorts no less.
At the golf sign-in we were treated to a great breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, sau- sage, etc.
A big California spouse had only dry cereal and black coffee. “All you guys riding”, he asked. “Yep” we said. “I’m walking” off he goes.
After the golf we all had hot dogs, loaded and several of them. Beer too! Big Boy had a diet coke.
At the evening meal we had ribs. The game plan had changed. He had a cafeteria tray full of ribs. Grease everywhere, washed down with Vodka Collins. Pig and “Tater wine.” Familiar diet down South. He never slowed down. By 1 am I was afraid he might explode. I could tell he’d peed on himself and one of Margaret’s classmates convinced her husband and me to get him to his room.
Barely able to stand, babbling on incomprehensively, we loaded him on the elevator. His room was on the first floor. Half way down he let go with a gigantic fart, maybe worse. As the elevator doors opened were walked off. Two Germans with their tubas, walked in behind as the doors began to close. Their comment was “omien gaten.”

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