A Centennial Party

Birthdays in our family when I was a kid growing up were no big deal. Mother might bake us a cake. Nannie and Paw Summers, my maternal grandparents, always sent us a card with a dollar bill slipped into it. (On their limited Social Security checks, that was a great sacrifice because they did the same for each of their grandkids, and that added up.) But that was all we came to expect.

There were no gifts, no parties. Well, we were promised two parties--one when we were six years old and another when we turned 16. I got the first one, but I don't recall ever getting the second one. Not sure what happened there. Maybe both my parents and I were too absorbed by thoughts of my preparations to go to college the following fall.

From my youthful perspective back then, all adults looked old to me. Anyone 60 or older was ancient in my eyes. Most of them seemed to have white or silver hair and walked with a stoop at best or a hesitation or a cane in worse cases. I knew some adults in their 70s and early 80s, and I thought they surely must have known the dinosaurs. I heard about but never knew anyone who was 100 years old.

Until now.

My wife and I recently traveled to Southwest Florida to join with others in celebrating my wife's Aunt Florence's 100th birthday. Brenda, my sister-in-law and Florence's niece, and Casey, Florence's granddaughter, threw a party for her, planning and preparing for it for months in advance.

They scheduled the party for several days before her actual birth date so she wouldn't suspect anything when they were ready to spring the surprise. On the designated day, Brenda told her that she would pick her up at the assisted living center at about 2:00 p.m., then pick up her 98-year-old brother (Brenda's and my wife's father) before going out to a nice restaurant for an early supper. None of that would have seemed unusual to her.

Boy, was Florence ever surprised to walk into the house and be greeted by 40 to 45 people singing "Happy Birthday" to her!

The guests were relatives from all over the country (Pennsylvania, New Jersey, South Carolina, etc.) and attendees of her church, including her pastor and his wife. It was an SRO event, standing room only.

She received gifts, cards, and a cake, and everyone enjoyed a huge meal. She was given a crown and seated on a throne (her wheelchair) under an arch festooned with balloons of various shades of purple. Her eyes lit up with joy and surprise as each relative and guest paid homage at her feet.

Although she clearly has gotten physically more feeble in the last few years, she gets around remarkably well considering that she's

now 100 years old. And her mind remans surprisingly sharp as a result of her constant jigsaw puzzling and cryptogram solving activities. A couple of years ago, my wife and I gave her for Christmas a cryptogram book that contained more than 1,000 puzzles. She completed all of them before the year was out.

But on the day of the party, all the food and excitement were too much for her. She gave in to the need for a nap amidst all the noise and hoopla. She surely was thinking, It's my party, and I'll sleep if I want to!

I have no doubt that, barring any unforeseen accidents, my wife will far outlast me. She has good genes that suggest longevity. A dad who is 98, an aunt who is 100.

Now Brenda has been told that she'd better start planning her next birthday party. She has only about a year and a half to do so. Dad Dietterich is fast approaching 100 himself and will be expecting it!

I wonder if I'll last long enough to attend it.