Oh-bla-di-oh-bla-da

Glenn’s retirement party is over. The good-byes have been said, the presents given, the toasts made, and the tears shed.

I can start breathing again.

The good news is that several ex-employees showed up—people who worked for us during the Reagan era. The bad news is that only three guys from the factory made an appearance, which sort of broke my heart.

Lesson learned: Although I think of my employees as part of the family, they have their own lives. I guess saying good-bye to the guy who brought them donuts once a week didn’t mean as much as I’d thought. Oh, well. Live and learn.

As far as I’m concerned, the highlight of the party was the “debut” of the 8-minute video I made for the occasion. It began with Glenn’s employment application from 1981. (He’d actually worked for us off and on prior to that, but I didn’t have the records and he couldn’t remember the dates.) Anyway, the application dissolved into group photos circa 1981 then worked its way through to the present. I ended it with a montage of head shots I’d dug up on every single current employee. Oh—and I laid in a nice guitar instrumental underneath it all. If I do say so myself, I’m not sure there was one dry eye among the 25 people who saw it.

When I got home, I viewed the video again, reflecting on the names and faces that have come and gone. It struck me that in my 22 years at Bemco, I’ve seen two generations pass by. And at the party, it occurred to me that I’m already seeing the third (our production manager’s daughter just joined us full-time.)

Then I had the real epiphany.

In assembling the video, I was focusing on roughly the last 20 years. But there’s another 30 years that went before! That’s two more generations of names, faces and a whole other “culture” that preceded the one I’m familiar with!

It was comforting, really—to remember that Glenn wasn’t the first employee to end his career at Bemco—and, no doubt he won’t be the last.

Still, farewells are hard. And no matter how earnest his invitation, nor my fervent promise, chances are slim we’ll meet again at his new home in Oregon.

No, after 22 years of working side-by-side, day-by-day--of being intimately familiar with each other's triumphs and tragedies--we’ve probably seen the last of each other.

That's life, I guess.