Even though I have three days of work remaining in my 34-year career as a professional librarian, the going-away party was last night.  And a lovely party it was, for sure – shared with my wonderful fellow soon-to-be-retirees, co-workers, former co-workers, library volunteers, and one extremely special former mentee (and the majority of them I am lucky and privileged to also call my dear friends).

Among those who were celebrating with me, was a woman named Barb.  She fits into more than one category above and yet is in a category all by herself.  I came to know her first as a co-worker – a cataloging substitute that I trained and mentored – and later, after her retirement, as a library volunteer.  But she became a precious friend to me as she took an interest in me, beyond my life as a librarian – in my family, my kiddos, my marriage, my hobbies, my passions, my joys, my sorrows, my triumphs and my struggles.  If she wasn’t actually working beside me in my office, she always took the time to stop in and catch up – never failing to find an opportunity to offer encouragement, celebrate joy, feed us delicious homemade foods and share her stories, her wisdom, a warm hug and her completely authentic love.  And though it may sound a bit trite, she was, especially in the days of raising teenagers, a beacon of hope on some very dark days.

She was there at the party last night and brought the best handmade card ever – a photo of her dining room table with a cup of coffee, beautiful flowers (I imagine from her own garden) and a copy of the Sunday Denver Post on the cover – and these words inside:  “Retirement … when every day is Saturday, except Sunday, when the big paper comes.”  Oh, I adore the way Barb savors life and that retirement philosophy captures her essence perfectly.  She went on to encourage me specifically in my future relationships, activities and interests and ended by thanking me for the grace that I had offered in her imperfections (all only imagined, I’m sure!).

Even now Barb continues to be my mentor and my role model.  I’d be proud to one day grow up to be a retired person just like her. I feel fortunate and honored to have shared a piece of my path with her for so many years and to carry her influence with me as I discover what lies ahead.  And yes, my friend, I will always be happy to stay in touch with you – you have been, are, and will continue to be a rich gift of Grace and Goodness!