I do not know a single person who does not contemplate on a fairly regular basis their age. Oh they may claim otherwise -- all that nonsense about not counting, not paying attention to it -- but from what I've seen, people proceed being mindful of where they fall on the timeline of one's life. I mean, how many times have you heard me say "I am 68!" As if you cared. I say it because I suppose it has meaning for me.
November 15th has always been the day I regard as belonging to my mother. She turned 98 today and so she is officially the oldest person who makes a regular appearance on Ocean. Until a couple of years ago, she lived independently in her own apartment downtown, but just as the pandemic hit us, she moved into assisted living units (what incredible timing!), so that the chores of cooking, cleaning, resupplying medications, driving to see a doc -- these now belong to her providers of care rather than to her.
My mom doesn't like celebrations so no one is making a fuss on her birthday. Nonetheless, on this still rather colorful day of November...
After an oatmeal breakfast...
Ed and I go to her place to tweak some technology for her and deliver some trivial stuff.
Happy birthday, mom!
She lives not too far from my older daughter's home and so we stop by there next to drop off stuff at their place. The two big kids are at school, but Sandpiper is home. He is, for now, the youngest person to make a regular appearance here on Ocean. In ten days he will be half a year old! Wait, only half a year? He looks like he owns the bean bag! Lord of hygge coziness! King of the blankies, delightfully cheerful just about all the time.
There you have it: family, with all that it represents, from the wee months of babyhood, to the (one hopes) calmer moments of senior living. There's a lot that happens in between. My mom can reflect upon it, Sandpiper can look forward to it. Life, as we know and love it to pieces!
With love...
