Anniversaries

One year. Fifty-two weeks. Anniversaries come around like that. They start with, "One week ago..." or "One month ago..." but eventually the weeks and months become a year, and we sit and wonder where the time went. How can it have been so long? How did it go by so quickly?

A year ago, life was going on as usual. Jim and I were newlyweds - just nine months into our marriage. We were happy, busy, doing things we'd always done. I had just returned from a trip South with my sister, visiting my niece and her family, doing some genealogical research, visiting my cousin, whom I hadn't seen for many years. Fun. Life. Living. Loving.

Oh, we were concerned about Jim's recent health issues. He'd had a trip to the ER while I was gone, and he'd just had an echocardiogram and spent 24 hours wearing a Holter monitor, but he felt pretty good and was doing his usual Jim stuff - taking care of the yard, the house, working crossword puzzles, anticipating his upcoming fishing trip to Alaska with his son.

I'd just visited my doctor, complaining of pain in my left leg. He'd ordered x-rays, given me an injection for sciatica, and told me my hips looked really good and would last me the rest of my life. I was looking forward to the next day's lunch plans with my son, so I could see his new offices.

See, life goes on, and we think it will go on forever. Even when we're old enough to know better. Even when our plans, our whole lives, have changed in the blink of an eye many times before. We put things on our calendars - Drew overnight with Gran; Jim's neurology appt.; Fort Stevens for clamming; Jim & Mike's Excellent Adventure; Rodeo weekend - and we think that means that those things will happen.

But in the blink of an eye, a perfectly healthy woman with hips that will last the rest of her life, can fall from the back of a truck and break one of those "perfect" hips. A man with so much to look forward to - a much-anticipated trip fishing with his son, enjoying the achievements of his grandchildren, traveling to far away places with his wife - can have a stroke, a series of strokes. Suddenly, the calendar reads, "Cancel Fort Stevens," "Cancel attorney," "Post-surgical follow-up," "Physical therapy."

"Care conference for Jim."

A year ago. Just a year ago. Or a lifetime ago. All depending on how you measure time.

What happened?

I'm 62 years old. No getting around it. Social Security checks will start showing up in late August, gravity is winning, and my oldest grandchild is now into double-digits of age. (Of course, he's the smarty who first called me old, back when I was barely 57!)

I love my birthday. Hell, I love everybody's birthday! I think they're important milestones. Yes, I know age is just a number, but birthdays give us an opportunity to reflect on the year - or years - past. People do that on New Year's Eve, too, of course, but birthdays are more personal I think.

It's been an interesting week around here. Tuesday morning I got up early and met my son, daughter-in-law, and grandson at the hospital where Briana was scheduled to have labor induced. The plan was for me to spend Tuesday, and, if necessary, Tuesday night and Wednesday with Addison, making occasional trips to the hospital to visit mom, dad, and baby sister.

We had a pretty good time. Addison is pretty easy-going and I've spent enough time with him to know his patterns of behavior and he knows when Gran means business, so we seldom have more than the occasional 3-year-old (or 62-year-old) lapse in routine and manners.

After an abbreviated nap on Tuesday, we spent most of the afternoon with his best friend, Jascha, and were planning what to do next when we got the phone call that Drew Alexandria had arrived in the world! So off we went to the hospital to meet her. Addison was pretty excited (you always have to wonder what kinds of images their minds conjure up; I think that mostly they think life will be exactly the same and may even think that the new baby is a passing incident - surely not someone who will take up permanent residence!), and, yes, so was I!

Drew is a cutie, all 5 lbs. 15 oz. and 19" of her! She has lots of black hair and makes sweet cooing sounds nearly all the time. She's my granddaughter!

After dinner, off to home and to bed for Addison and me (and everyone else, I think!). Wednesday, we went to the hospital for a visit and Addison got to hold his baby sister for the first time. He was very gentle and very sweet, but did not want to leave his mom when it was time to go! He clung and cried and had to be carried to the car. It made me feel so bad for him. I knew it would happen, of course, but I still felt bad.

At home, after lunch, he did not want to take a nap and fought it with all that is in him, becoming quite put out with me:

Addison: "It's almost 2 o'clock Gran. Mommy says I only have to sleep till 2 o'clock."

Me: "But you haven't slept, Addison; you need to sleep till at least 3 o'clock. You need to rest for when mommy, daddy, and Drew come home tonight. And tomorrow's my birthday party; you don't want to be tired for that, do you?"

Addison: "I'm going to be sick tomorrow. I can't come to your party."

Me: "What? You're going to miss my birthday? I'm sorry; I don't like it when you're sick."

Addison: "I'll be well again when your party's over. Then when it's over I can have some cake."

He eventually settled down and did actually sleep for about an hour, but not without making me aware that I was just not playing fair!

So, an eventful week in many ways, but especially with the birth of my first and only granddaughter. As I told her on her birth day, I'd been expecting her for 39 years! She and I are going to have a lot of fun, and I look forward to getting to know her in the ways that I know her Big Brother, Addison.

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In 1996, my middle son, Jason, called and told me that he and Lisa were planning to get married, and would it be okay if they got married on my birthday. Okay? It was more than okay!

Happy 13th Wedding Anniversary, Jason and Lisa. You two make it look easy! I love you both.