But He Doesn't Have to Have a Plaque.
A few months ago I related a dream I had regarding my "recognition" party at the time of my retirement. In tiny print I left a footnote indicating that I might someday relate the true story of my recognition by my employer. Here goes.
I retired in the summer of 1990 following 31 years in public education, 21 of them for the school system from which I retired. To say the parting was sweet sorrow would miss the mark. It was sweet to the extent that both the superintendent for whom I worked and I were tickled that our relationship was over, so neither of us was sorrowful.
One year later the superintendent's tenure was ended. He moved on and I've heard nothing of him since. Our corporation installed a new superintendent. A couple of months into her tenure she called me on the phone and asked me if I could attend an upcoming school board meeting.
She explained that when she moved into the office she found in her bottom desk drawer a plaque recognizing my years of service, awarded to me by the Board of Education. The board members, she said, were abashed when they learned of the fate of the token they had ordered for me.
So they presented the thing to me some fifteen months after my service was concluded.
And this story is at once funny, pathetic, laughable, and tear-worthy. But if you choose tears, don't shed them for me, for in no way am I to be pitied. And I would never have missed the thing had I never seen it.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;. Weep, and you weep alone. --Ella Wheeler Wilcox