A Walk in The Park

My wonderful friend (I call her my mother-person) will celebrate her 90th birthday next Thursday, June 6th. She does not want a big celebration, and she told me some time ago, that she will wait until her 91st birthday and celebrate that milestone. What she wants this year is "A Walk in The Park." She actually wants someone to walk with her, in the park near her house, each day of her birthday week. I love the simplicity of that request, and wish I were there to walk with her. What a nature filled way to celebrate becoming ninety. She can celebrate being as sturdy as the trees she will pass, as strong as the roots of those trees, as fragrant as the grass growing, as beautiful as the flowers in the park,and as passionate about the outdoors as any true Miami bred nonagenarian. What a joy to live to be ninety years old. What a blessing to those around her , especially to me. I remember when I first met her, I was just a tiny little somebody, and even then, I thought she was old. Who would have thought that so many years later, she would still be such an integral part of my life.

Who would have thought that she would see me marry, have children and grandchildren. I am so thankful every day that she is here. I don't know if her life has been a "Walk in The Park," but at 90 years old, EVERY DAY is a Walk in the Park. I only wish that I could be there to walk with her, but perhaps, next Thursday, I will take our four grandchildren for a walk in the park in our neighborhood, and I will explain to them, why we are doing it--we are honoring a very old lady. You know that at their age, they think anyone over 21 is a very old lady. Georgiana Johnson Bethel, I love you, and I celebrate you!!!!!

Weathered Hands

Today as we celebrate our forty fifth wedding anniversary, I realize that there is nothing more beautiful than weathered hands representing the love which has weathered the storms of life. I posted a picture on FB this morning showing our two hands forming a heart--that has been our life together--two hands, bound together as one heart! Grateful, grateful!

I Can Still Pick Up My Spoon

I talk to my East Coast friends very early in the morning, and especially on the week-ends. This morning I spoke to the person I call "Mother Person," and it is always so interesting to hear this almost 90 year old darling give me her words of wisdom. We somehow began to talk about gratitude (I even put that word on my FB status--stole it from another person's status this morning--funny how things work), and she reminded me of an old lady, when asked, how she was doing, always answered "I Can Still Pick Up My Spoon."

It reminded me of an older man (older, is anyone older than I) in my yoga class. I never talk to folks in the class, because, after all it is yoga, and I love the quiet aspect of it. However, since we are usually the first ones there, we learned each other's names and usually exchange pleasantries. Whenever I ask him how he is doing, he ALWAYS answers "I am still breathing."

The older I get, the more filled with gratitude I become. I am grateful for my wonderful husband, and family; grateful for great friends; grateful for former friends who are no longer friends, because they taught me that some folks are in your lives for a season, and when that season is over, they can dry up like the leaves, but unfortunately, in my case, there is no rebirth; (I digress, as usual), I am grateful for old folks who are friends, young folks who are friends, and even the very young friends, like our grands, and the l4 year old I tutor.

But, most of all I am grateful that "I Can Still Pick Up My Spoon." I hope that when I can't do that anymore, that there will be someone who will love me enough to pick it up for me. GRATEFUL!!!!