95 Years Strong

If anyone had told me a decade ago that I would be taking my father on a scenic helicopter flight for his 95^th birthday, then hosting a celebration, I would have been quite skeptical. That’s exactly what we did, and it was wonderful. Sid’s spirit, humor and appetite are in fine shape. His ability to keep hearing aids inside his ears, not so much.

I flew into San Diego to coordinate with cousin Marian, arriving from San Francisco, for 4 days of micro-planned festivities. First stop with Sid: Costco hot dogs. We progressed into happy hour at Seacrest, where seniors wobble after enjoying liberally poured cocktails. We were greeted by soon-to-be 102 year old Ida, who asked if Marian was a “souse” based on her love of Bud Light. What a wonderful vintage word! (Souse = to plunge into a liquid; to steep in a mixture, as in pickling; to be intoxicated.) After looking up the definition, we had to agree. Especially considering Sid’s love of all things pickled.

My original plan was to use a friend’s backyard and have a barbeque. A sizzling heat wave intervened; we adapted and had a pre-cooked meal in the living room instead. I provided shuttle services with my rental car while all the seniors’ walkers were transported via antique truck. We had one too many people for the car – so Shirley happily climbed into the front seat of the truck, yelling “yippee!” Marian was our balance consultant, using her physical therapy expertise to ensure everyone’s safety. More than a dozen people came to the party, including Dad’s former neighbors from Santee and his financial advisor from Chase Bank. The food was great, prepared by amazing AirBnB hosts who went beyond the call of duty. Marian baked 2 cherry pies. The collective glucose level from all the non-approved non-kosher delicacies was dangerously high.

Dad said that he doesn’t like lots of attention, and he was exhausted, but he enjoyed every minute. And I got lots of hugs from little old ladies who are part of my extended family. Now if we can just find that damn hearing aid, which disappeared the morning of Dad’s birthday. I suspect it was hidden by my mother, now gone 4 years. Mom wasn’t able to attend the party, and she was sulking. In the life and death continuum, some things simply defy logic.