When I Turn 89


If I make it that far, I want the phone to ring off the hook, like my Grandpa’s did.

I want to greet visitors with crisp Champagne, artisan cheeses, and gorgeous pottery filled with strong coffee.


I want to kiss my husband and hold him dearly, then turn to my kids and grandkids and great grandkids and say,
“Honey, it was all worth it. ”

I will play pickup sticks with the little ones, speak of summer long trips, and think forward, with optimism inherently.
I will gaze at the sunset and marvel at the stars and look on calendars without anxiety.


I will walk with laughter and by that point, really know how to plan, and deal unscrupulously with any matter at hand.

I will choose more butter in the pan, which will hopefully be French and will hang over the sink from great hooks.

I will put every candle in the cake and not believe I am more than fifty-nine, perhaps.


When I am “this many”, (imagine only good) I will have gotten out of my way, and put all bets on love.

A very happy birthday to my friend and dear Grandpa, Dick. You make it all look too easy.