Reconnecting

I’m writing about last night because it was really cool.

Anita and I drove to Grand Rapids, an hour or so away from our home, to have dinner with a guy with whom I worked in the governor’s office back in the 1980s and hadn’t seen since. My former co-worker – let’s call him “Cal” – had earned his law degree, moved up north and become a prominent and successful defense attorney in the years since we toiled in cubicles in the Hollister Building on Allegan Street in downtown Lansing.

On the way to west Michigan, I told Anita I was looking forward to seeing Cal again because I didn’t think I was as kind or friendly to him as I should have been in the past and I was glad to have the chance to make amends. Anita found a parking space on the street adjacent to the restaurant – we were meeting Cal at the elegant Chop House on Monroe, across the street from the Amway Grand Plaza Hotel – and soon we were seated at a large round table underneath an ornate chandelier, talking and laughing and reminiscing and getting reacquainted.

The food was delicious, the waitress excellent and the conversation surprisingly relaxed considering that decades had passed since we last spent time together. We talked about “What’s the Diehl?” and writing and religion and criminal defense law and Facebook friends and Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and Cal’s wife and daughter and three horses and our four kids.

Cal complimented me on my writing skills and told me he appreciated how I did my job when we worked together. I told him I was impressed by his success, regretted not being nicer to him before and loved being able to discuss hot-button issues like God and the Bible without anger or defensiveness or disrespect, as we did. (We couldn’t be further apart on the topic of spirituality but no one’s blood pressure increased during our conversation.) Cal’s generosity was notable – the expensive dinner was his treat – and I repeatedly offered to reciprocate and at least contribute toward the tip until Anita kicked me under the table and told me to stop.

We really had a wonderful time.

I was reminded of a few things last night. I realized that my perception of the past may not be the same as that of others who populated it. I was made aware that it’s never too late for acquaintances to become friends, that some successful attorneys are modest and quite likable, and that the Chop House’s Grilled Hearts of Romaine Salad is so good it should be illegal. And I was reminded of how lucky I am to be with someone as beautiful and charming as Anita, who looks as good in fancy restaurants as she does at home.

The only thing that could have made the evening better is if I had memorized the special code to the new keyless lock on our front door so that my tired spouse wouldn’t have had to wait on the porch for 15 minutes upon our return until I stumbled upon the right combination. I’m thinking of suing the lock company now that I’m friends again with a lawyer from Marquette.