80th. Will there be an 81st?

Today is Molly’s birthday.   She is 80years old.

Will she have another birthday? Of course, there is no way of knowing. Today, I have a feeling that she may be near the end of her life.  Surely she is very unlikely to reach 85 or 90.  I feel sad to see her in her wheelchair unable to even sit up properly.  It took two CNA’s to lift her from slumping to sitting so she could eat her cake.

This morning I fed her a delicious cake from the French bakery I pass on may route to visit her. She ate it readily but only semi-aware, too sleepy to make much contact with me or Beth. Sad. Sad. Sad.

But . . . the staff loved the cake. And Debby, a sweet old lady sitting at the table where we served the cake, loved it too. She repeated over and over “This is good.” Yes, it is.

On the way home in the car with Beth, I quoted Shakespeare. “What a piece of work is man, How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty, In form and moving how express and admirable, In action how like an Angel, In apprehension how like a god . . .” Beth asked, “Shakespeare?” “Yes,” I replied, “Hamlet. That’s one of the things I miss most about being with Molly. On any given day we shared Shakespeare and Wilde and Donne and Spenser and . . . I miss that so much.”

Tonight I will see my grandson Samuel, DJ’s son, who is visiting from the mountains on his spring break. That’s part of Molly, too. She’s the one who was willing to start over and raise our three kids together. I had no idea how much work it would be, but Molly knew and did it anyway out of love. Now her legacy includes ten beautiful grandchildren.

So, today on Molly’s birthday, I treasure every one of the grandchildren, every precious moment I get to spend with them.

Thank you, Molly. Thank you for the moments of bliss. God bless your 80 years and everything you did for me and for them.



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