Time out for a personal touchstone. My mom turned 99 yesterday. I headed down to Toronto (a couple of hours away) to take her to lunch in the lovely main dining room at The Dunfield, the seniors' residence where she stays, now on the 4th floor with 24/7 care. She'd been on Floor 7 with a big suite on her own, but a few years back she suffered a stroke and became more needy of care. 24/7 care. So we moved her to the 4th. Cheap it ain't, but she's happy and very comfortable and she/we can afford it.
The staff are great, They appeared with dessert and candles, singing Happy Birthday. It brought a smile to her pretty face. The only thing she regretted was having missed her weekly beauty salon treatment: she's had a cold and coughed a lot, so they couldn't take her. This too will pass. What's a coif between friends? Or a cough?
Mom's doing pretty well for 99. Although she told me at lunch, "This is as far as I go. Don't want to celebrate more birthdays." Now, normally I go along with her wishes (hell, should she be right that I have her genes and will get to be that age, I'll demand some deference too!), but I decided to gently challenge this desire. "Mom, having made it all the way to 99, don't you think it's worth hangin' in for one more year until 100? I mean, you'll get telegrams from the Queen, the Prime Minister, the Premier..." I knew, of course, the Queen would get her right off, she being a staunch royalist. "Oh..." she said, likely in regard to Her Majesty, "I suppose I could try. Yes, I guess I could do that." While I remember a time this stalwart individualist would have argued stridently, I was pleased she caved.
Time will tell.
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