Old Wise One (my husband) decides to join me at at a “Centurions Birthday Party”
given by our next door neighbors, Bob and Nadine.
This throws me completely off guard.
I’m thinking, is he on meth?
Since when does he like to socialize on his day off?
He doesn’t enjoy crowds.
He hesitates to shake hands because hands are bacteria carriers.
We live in an old brick condominium on the beach.
The owners are just as old as the building.
Our building is as close to assisted living as you can get except we have no
doorman or nurse on duty.
Once a year, someone dies
or they fall, break a hip, and scoochy on down to a rehab center.
We bought our condo because of the view and because noise was not
going to be an issue.
I was excited to attend the shindig. Had my outfit laid out. Never been to a
partay for centurions before. Have you?
The guests of honor are Violet and Ellen. Their birthdays are one day apart.
I get their name confused
when I see them in the lobby getting their mail. But not today, Violet is wearing
a sweater the color of her name.
Our hostess Nadine makes a toast. Her voice rings out, “Happy Centurion!”
Violet smiles, I can tell she enjoying the moment. Then I see my husband go
over to offer a handshake and give her half a hug.
How sweet of him. Now why can’t he like that when my relatives come over for
Christmas ham and pumpkin pie. Hmm.
I am sad to say that Ellen could not make it. She was not feeling all that great.
She is 100 years old.
I was disappointed not to see her because I enjoy talking to her inside the
elevator as she takes her own recycling and compost bin outside. She never
wants my help. Her flaming red permed hair is always curled and never combed out.
Her back is C-shaped.