the xanax diary

A Nonagenarian Walks into a Bar…

Yesterday Ken’s Gram turned 90. We celebrated with a family party at her house in Michigan City. All kinds of relatives came from different parts of the country–many of whom I haven’t seen for a couple of years. It was one of those “firsts” that can be so hard, and in that respect I wasn’t looking forward to it. But I knew from experience as soon as that first few seconds were over, it would be fine. And it was.

(The “Birthday Queen” in all her glory, surrounded by family and friends and paparazzi.)

While there I couldn’t help but think of Gram’s 80th birthday party in 2002. Ken and I had been together for a year-and-a-half and were planning our move to Los Angeles. Our future together was bright and shiny. And there I was standing on the other side of that life and those plans–alone. My drive there turned into one huge, constant pep talk to myself. (I’ve gotten really good at them.)

I gifted her this photo of herself and Ken from 2002–a couple of months after her 80th when she came to Chicago to see Ken’s one-man-show “My Foot Left”. They both look great and their mutual affection is evident.

It ended up being a pretty incredible day. When I think of Gram at 90, having endured the loss of a husband, a daughter, two grandsons and a great grandson (and that’s just what I’m aware of) and remaining such a positive, loving person serves as an inspiring reminder to me that life moves forward–and so must we–because that’s just how it works.