Milestones help evoke memories
Celebrating the big 9-0 comes with its challenges
Ever since I hit the 90 milestone last July, it seems I keep meeting people in the 90-age range, give or take a few years.
The 90-year-olds seem to be popping up all over the place! The latest member to join our club was Barbie. Her best friend, Nora, invited me to a party she was giving to celebrate the occasion.
On the appointed day in January, fortunately well before the onset of the coronavirus pandemic, we all gathered in Nora’s lovely apartment.
One after another the guests arrived, all in the 90 range, except for Pam, who was 10 years younger.
In came Judy pushing her walker. Beth was leaning on her cane. Gabi hobbled in and plopped herself in a chair. Me, I’m a recent cane user. Lovely Barbie, the birthday girl, was complaining that she was experiencing constant back trouble.
However, once seated around the goodies-laden table and served by our attentive hostess, Nora, also in our age range but the fittest among us, we presented another picture — a group of good-looking, smartly dressed and well-preserved ladies in animated conversation.
It was a memorable afternoon, enjoying each other’s company, toasting our friend with glasses of wine, singing Happy Birthday and sharing a delicious birthday cake.
That pleasant afternoon, however, brought some disturbing thoughts to mind about my own missed 90th birthday party.
It had been an annual tradition of mine to invite friends to a party on my birthday.
The luncheon, held at the restaurant of the Hungarian Residence, featured wiener schnitzel (breaded veal cutlets) on the menu and was crowned by a birthday cake prepared by Hungarian master pastry chef Zoli.
I’m looking at the seating plan for the year 2009, when I placed 14 people around the table, each place marked with a card bearing the person’s name. The next year’s plan shows 11 names, while by 2013, the number had dropped to eight.
Fast forward to 2019, a milestone year for me because of the special 9-0 birthday.
Again, as usual, I set the date for the party to take place, as always, on my birthday at the Hungarian Residence, and issued invitations. This year, the number or guests around the table would dwindle to four, including me, and there would be no birthday cake, as Zoli was unavailable.
Then the unforeseen happened. One of my three invitees couldn’t make it due to a medical appointment that day. I had to postpone the party.
But it never happened. In the intervening months, one of my guests had to move to a somewhat remote residence because of deteriorating health.
Another guest developed worsening mobility problems and is practically confined to her home. The third invitee has new health issues and rarely comes into town from her home in the suburbs.
True, some more recent friends arranged a lovely birthday celebration for me. I also received many greeting cards, both snail mail and email. Friends and relatives wrote and called from Canada and abroad.
So I did celebrate my special birthday. But still … the traditional yearly event never took place. Maybe this year …
I look at some of the names no longer on my birthday lunch lists. Each name evokes a memory of a dear relative or friend.
Friends like my charming neighbours Ernie and John, the Inuit art collector. Hungarian compatriots like Vilma and Klari and Jeno, a fine bridge player.
Friends of various nationalities. All no longer with us.
But in a few months, another of my friends will celebrate her 90th birthday. So I say, let’s have a party, and bring on the cake for the next celebration!