Not Bad for Ninety

Two weeks ago my great grandmother celebrated her 90th birthday.
We went to celebrate with her.

She was born Evart, Michigan and has lived in the same small, red brick farmhouse for the last 6 decades or so. She gave birth to five children. Over the years she has lost three of them. These last few years have been the most difficult. Margaret Hoffmeyer suffers from Alzheimer's disease. I think it may be self-defense. Mothers are not supposed to outlive their children. Let alone three children.

Thankfully, on her birthday, Grandma was having a good day. She is always able to remember my mother. On her birthday, she knew all of us. However, she couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that she was turning ninety.

"Well, you've got a cake," she noticed.
"Yes, it's for your birthday!" I said.
"January the 18th?" she asked.
"Yes. That's tomorrow!"
"How old do you think you are?" my mother asked.
Grandma made a slightly puzzled face and then hesitantly she said, "Eighty?"
We all giggled and my mom touched Grandma's elbow and said,
"You have to add ten more years."
Grandma's eyes grew wide with astonishment, "I'm ninety?!"
She thought it was hilarious


The room filled with laughter and we all gathered around to give Grandma a big birthday hug. She successfully extinguished the flames on her "9" and "0" candles and we all cheered. As my mother cut the cake, Grandma said softly, "the years just slip by, don't they."