Mondays with Mike: I love when one of Beth’s plans comes together

Here’s the thing about Beth. She has a way of, shall we say, complicating things. Some times, in a delightful way.

Here’s what I mean: It starts with an invitation from her longtime (high school) friends inviting us to meet up in Glen Ellyn Sunday (yesterday) afternoon.

The view from our little patio.

This is where the light bulbs start going off in Beth’s head. Well, we’d have to take the train out to Glen Ellyn. And that train happens to be the same one that goes all the way out to Geneva, Illinois, the quaint little town that Beth and I and Gus lived in for part of the 1990s. There’s a lovely, rustic-but-luxurious place on the Fox River in Geneva called the Herrington Inn. It’s a former creamery that’s been redone.

So, the scheming begins. Beth finds out they have a rare vacancy on Saturday night. Hmm, she thinks. Next thing you know we’re on a Saturday morning train to Geneva and I’m toting my daypack and hiking stuff. Beth’s plan: I take a hike along the Fox River to build endurance for my trip to Alaska while Beth, well, gets into her hotel robe, alternating between working on her computer in the sunshine on the little patio attached to our room, and taking naps while listening to audio books.

Saw a lot of these on my hike.

Twelve miles and three quarts of water later, I showed up with a bottle of chilled white wine and we sat together on the patio. I took a whirlpool bath (did I mention the Herrington is a nice place?) to ward off sore muscles, and we headed out to watch the White Sox and the Cubs play at a local bar/restaurant. Three fish tacos and a White Sox loss later, we were back on the patio.

The next day we had a leisurely European style continental breakfast (you know the kind that includes meats and cheeses—did I mention I really like The Herrington?), I did the crossword, Beth won us a late checkout and we took a walk by the river. Whitney behaved pretty well—she often pulls straight to the water but not this time.

We headed to the train and arrived in Glen Ellyn around 3 p.m., just in time to intercept two friends of the friends who we were meeting, they coming in on the train from the city.

Next thing you know, we’re sitting in splendid weather, eating…meats and cheeses…and sipping wine at a sidewalk table at Marche, a cheese/wine shop owned by one of Beth’s high school pals.

So here’s the deal: Five of the seven us meeting yesterday went to high school together in Elmhurst, Illinois. But two hadn’t seen each other in decades. So that little reunion itself was worth it.

We all reconvened at the home of two of Beth’s pals, who were sweethearts in high school and have made it through all these years. They fed us a perfect summer meal, and we settled into just, well, being us.

Not everything about aging is so great. One of our party was recovering from knee replacement surgery, another is going in for her own shortly. One of our party had been diagnosed with both a brain tumor and lung cancer last year—but after a long slog, is cancer free. We know about Beth’s travails and nearly leaving me behind a few years back with her emergency heart surgery.

But.

I think we could all look around last night grateful to have one another, and taking satisfaction that we’d all, in different ways, changed for the better. Our conversations were honest, agenda-free, and we had a million laughs.

At one point during the evening, one of Beth’s friends looked around the table and said, “This is a miracle.”

I have to agree.