The View From 96---A Start

View96Start

The View From 96---A Start

     As of this date I’ve done three “Views,” which are a kind of memoir.  The first was a “View From 85,” which was mostly fictional but it did cover my hip replacement surgery and its aftermath, which were all too real.  The second was “The View From 90,” which turned out to be mostly about the chief concern at the time, Covid.  The third was “The View From 95,” which mostly dealt with a really old guy with a bum knee who’d lost his wife attempting to cope with life in an empty house.

At this rate, the next “View” would be from 100 and this would be being very optimistic so I thought I would attempt a “View From 96” as long as I’m still here and hope I’ll still be around to complete it.

    As usual since my wife Beverly had passed on, our Christmas family was at what was now my house and as usual I’d told everyone to consider this to include my birthday, which, being on December 30, was only a few dats away.  While some people might consider reaching the age of 96 a remarkable feat I just saw it as getting even older with more aches and pains and less energy looming up in the future.  So I’d just as soon it pass quietly and with no fanfare.  It wasn’t until I looked at my journal notes that I saw how active it was.

     The first thing was a call from my son in Ireland, C---, informing me that he and my grandson L--- and granddaughter S---, both teenagers, would be coming for a visit during Easter.  This of course was a happy birthday surprise.  I saw them periodically on our Telegram exchanges but this wasn’t the same as having them here in person and, important, being able to reach out and hug them. At the same time I knew that the visit would be bittersweet as it was the last time they’d be here.  Also, I would be worried that I didn’t deteriorate further before they got here.

     The second event of the day was that my son M--- came over with Chinese food and we had this for lunch with, as always, enough left over for two or three more meals for me.  As the older I got so the less my appetite had become.  M---, a Laker fan, also reminded me that this was  also LaBron James’ birthday.  I knew it was Sandy Koufax’s birthday and thought it was also Tiger Woods’. 

     My weekly Safeway delivery came and, a recurring annoyance, the delivery person didn’t even ring the bell, but M--- brought in the bags so it didn’t matter, not this time anyway.  I also got a couple of buttonless shirts I’d ordered via Amazon.  I could still manage the buttons on my shirts but it was getting harder.  The less I had to deal with buttons, I thought, the better.  I wondered how many ither oldsters felt the same way.  I also sent out cards in reply to those few I’d gotten for Christmas.  Since Beverly’s passing, I hadn’t felt up to sending cards and Christmas letters,something we’d done every year, but this time I I felt I should acknowledge cards sent to me.  I also enclosed brief family letters.

     The following day, New Year’s Eve, was quiet by comparison.  Through force of habit I watched the ball coming down in Times Square on television and when they showed couples kissing I couldn’t help crying as this is what Beverly and I used to do.  Then came January 1, the start of another year.  I’d be still another year older and closer to the end but I did have my visit from Ireland to look forward to.