Big Night at a Home away from Home

Last Saturday evening was a new experience for me. And if you’re anything like me, you’ve rarely been in love with over a hundred people in one place at the same time.

The evening was all about an event that was always in the future but being there was believing it. It was like finally getting off the bench in high school basketball or escaping dental school with the paper to prove it or even saying farewell to the mayor and city council (I didn’t see that one coming.)

Back in May, I sold Temple City Dental Care to a friend and family. And sadly, I knew I’d be seeing less of my adopted team family. And now I agree with other old-timers about how fast 46-years can go by.

About a year before Jimmy Carter’s inauguration, I arrived in town as a new business owner. Dr Bob Ewing had practiced dentistry in Temple City for 40-years; on Week One, he showed up to greet me and even hand over patients for whom he had provided dental care for decades. I knew I’d found a home. I also knew there was something about Doc Ewing I wanted to copy; he made me feel welcome and comfortable on hello. I wanted to be just like Bob, but I thought 20-years of dentistry would be more than enough and the perfect time to move on to the Amalfi coast or Sicily (and my mom’s roots.)

So, I didn’t quite have a grasp of compound interest, worker’s comp, or payroll taxes. And without Dental Assistant/ Office Manager/ Best Friend Diane and Dental Assistant Kathy, I doubt I would’ve made it through the first year. Last night, I had photos taken with friends and family who’d doubled as patients for beyond 4-decades; and these are the people with whom you want to share a foxhole. One thing I quickly learned about myself was my addiction to people.

Twenty years elapsed before I even got on a plane, much less explored the Amalfi coast and its cuisine. Treatment Coordinator Denise has used the Jodorowsky quote, “Birds born in a cage think flying is an illness” figuratively to describe life’s inevitable awakenings. In my case, the quote was professionally literal. Three of us flying to Canmoore, Ontario Canada (my first flight since age-12) changed everything.

We met my first non-Von Bulow mentor and began learning everything non-existent in dental school. We implemented verbal systems, found confidence, and engaged our community. Our clinical services expanded. We loved being birds outside of the cage. We became family.

The next 26-years comprised a journey we personally designed. Inspired, in part, by being my mom’s caregiver for 10-years and listening to my team and their similar life experiences, we became our motto, “friends and family serving friends and family;” we worked together to be our purpose, “Making a world-class difference for others and making Dentistry fun.” Our #1 core value to this day is Family. We made pronouns illegal. And we had a blast helping others, supporting one another, and serving the community. Work didn’t seem like work anymore.

Last night was more like a Sicilian reunion served by a taco truck than a farewell. And yeah, multiple friends and family asked about my next trip to Sicily and/or the Amalfi coast. Team Leader Dani organized the event and will remain Team Leader for my friend and new owner, the gifted Dr. Kyle Low. During our 20-years working together, I’ve grown to see Dani as more of an adopted daughter than co-worker. And Dani’s sister Denise, our Treatment Coordinator/ Community Liaison who now has a growing dental consulting business, helped big-time along with husband Aaron. Even our beloved 13-year Dental Hygienist Jennifer arrived with husband Mike and her THREE children (Jen used to drive to our San Gabriel valley office all the way from Manhattan Beach.)

Patients, team members, colleagues, high school classmates, and cousins stood and shared on a level of comfort I’ve seen only during birthdays celebrated in my Aunt Clara’s backyard.

I couldn’t stop smiling. And I couldn’t stop wiping away the tears. I knew a retirement party was out there, but I wasn’t so sure I could handle it. I was moved beyond my first little league at-bat, or even my first kiss, didn’t spill any of my San Antonio Winery Merlot (Thank you Joan Riboli), and managed to sustain a measure of continuity with the words I shared near the end of the evening.

It was a night to remember. Nope, it was a night I’ll never forget.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.