My husband, George, celebrated his 99th birthday on March 30. I debated for weeks whether I should have a wee celebration party. Of course I should. It is, after all, a milestone....in fact any birthday after 90 seems like a milestone doesn't it? So I planned a nice tea party for six with all the trimmings, Scones with Devon cream and strawberry jam, sandwiches and cake. We invited our son and daughter in law, my friend Fiona, and her husband Will. On the day, Fiona came down with strep throat and cancelled out, not wanting to be Typhoid Mary and create newspaper headlines saying she killed someone on his 99th birthday. Okay, well that leaves five. One hour later, my son telephoned and said that Nancy, my daughter in law, had a bad cold, and excused herself because she didn't want to infect George on his 99th birthday. Now we are down to four.. I began to eye my husband wondering if age casts a spell on people who might want to have a piece of cake. I felt my throat. Was I next?
Things have a way of turning out well. Our son's birthday was the day after the tea, so we still had four people breathing enough to form a quorum. We stuffed ourselves with sandwiches, strawberry jam piled on top of Devon cream and a very large piece, or two, of chocolate cake with ice cream. Yum. There was still enough left over to send the men home with doggie bags for absent wives.
George enjoyed the whole thing, and actually remembered it until the next day, and had no indigestion over it all. Many of you are aware that George has dementia and it is slowly getting worse. However, the doctors call it a pleasant dementia because he is a sweetheart and has an amenable disposition. We hope to be able to report back next year for the 100th celebration.
PS. I must remember not to write and post blogs when I am tired and can't see the typos.
