Happy Birthday Margy

Old People's Words

Once a week I stop to visit my parents at a nearby continuing care facility. Doing conversation with them can be kind of a trip now days. At 96 Dad  is doing remarkably  well, a kind of light hearted banter seems to be our norm and the way he seems most comfortable. But Mom is no longer playing on the same field we are. She usually can not speak whatever is in her mind, the right words just will not come, and so generally she does not participate. But now and then she chimes in and it is a challenge to make sense of what she says.

A recent conversation between these two people who have been married 66 years made me smile.

Mom says to Dad - "I got the things you wanted in the mail". [this didn't happen]
Dad:  [playing along - if ever you need a good sport this is your man] Oh? And what might that have been?"
Mom: "Well if you don't remember I could have it sent again".
Dad: "OK. Great! Mail it twice."

We like to think we have a good grip, that we know what is real and what is not real. We trust our memories and think they are a truthful story of our lives.  But apparently this is not so. Research has shown that our memories change like everything else. They may be altered by the response we get in the retelling. What gets the best feedback becomes the new truth. It is possible that complete fabrications become absolute truth. Something that never happened becomes something we are sure we did. Of all the countless images and stories who knows in old age what pieces of our minds will remain for us to think about.

I certainly hope I remember the time I swapped some songs with Paul McCartney in the lobby of the Hilton in NYC in 1978.

Our Dads

Margy and I picked up our Dads to take them for a drive on Saturday; the Mountain Laurel tour, a known route where Pennsylvania's state flower flourishes. And I believe we caught the peak. Margy's dad, Dan, who has made this excursion many times, proclaimed it the best he's ever seen. In some spots a sea of blooms as far into the woods as you could see.

Last stop was Meyer's Dairy for shakes and cones. This local business that has been providing milk and wonderful ice cream to our town since 1931.

Both our dads, these fine looking old gentlemen, turn 96 this year.

Father's Day

My father and mother live nearby in a retirement community. Dad will be 95 on the 30th. He says of the pending birthday, "You can pile the gifts in the corner".

I dropped in on Dad today to deliver some cards and give well wishes. I took this picture. The pictures on the wall are of his father, mother, sister, and grandfather. His father died when Dad was just 9. His sister lives in England.

I consider it a true blessing in my life that I had a father who was a role model but not an overbearing one. He was supportive but not directive, available for counsel but expecting his children to find their own way. He was honest and could be trusted completely.  He was not overly demonstrative in his affections or praise but neither was he critical or judgmental. Raised by a mother who did not believe in corporal punishment he likewise did not strike his children.
And though I don't think many outside the family saw it, he could be very funny. This sense of humor is now what carries him through the trials of old age.

I think it is not uncommon for sons to spend much of their lives trying to win the approval of their fathers. I am grateful my life has not been saddled with this burden.

Thanks for everything Dad.

Happy Father's Day.

A Happy Birthday

It was a happy birthday although the outlook wasn't promising. I have made a point over the years of trying to do something different than my normal routine on my birthday. Nothing particularly special but something to make me sit up and notice the passing of time, the path of a lifetime.

So I arranged for the day off and was making some tentative plans. Ah the best laid plans ... derailed by a game of racquetball the evening before and a seized up back that had me limping home v e r y  c a r e f u l l y.

So the day was spent mostly on the couch downing Advil at prescribed intervals. Well, come to think of it, that is a little different than normal.

It was day 20819 in the life. Of course there is an online calculator. Putting one's age in days makes it a little like watching the odometer in your car. At day 18,262 you want to pull over by the side of the road and take pictures. By day 23,741 you are starting to show some wear. Only two of the power windows work, some of the dash knobs are missing and you have to add more oil when you fill 'er up. If you hit day 29,219 you are beyond the average and you got your money's worth for sure. No one else dares drive it at this point. You don't want to admit it but you're gonna have to take it to the yard pretty soon.

But this day was happy because I received so many well wishes from friends. I got cards from my father-in-law, my brother and his wife, my sister and my friend Linda with whom I share this birth date. I got phone calls from another brother and my sister and my daughter. I chattted online with my son who is in Africa which is now just a ho-hum miracle.

And I received flowers, a nice bottle of wine and a lovely dinner from Margy.

I felt loved. Now there is a priceless gift.

Thanks to all of you.