A Party and a Parting

Yesterday was my 43rd birthday and I forgot all about it until the wishes started flowing. We are knee deep in rapid renovations to sell our home and move. I've been so stressed about everything that I forgot about my birthday until I discovered this hand silk screened card by Cori Dantini from my sister-in-law sitting by the coffee maker. (Will frame this one) Laura flew in from KC MO to help with the project. I received many wonderful well wishes, many from whom whose birthdays I don't know or can never remember.

This card from Jules also touched me deeply. Robert and Satch took me out to dinner and when we returned there was a very dense and decadent chocolate cake awaiting...and the four of us (Robert, Satch, Laura and me) had a little party. There were gifts via post from family and friends...like a handfull of vintage buttons tied in an antique hankie from the lovely "Di-Di" who also made me a cake and homemade chocolates. How lucky am I!

Ms. Hemingway asked me, "Are you 21 and holding?"
I said, "NO...I'm 43 and proud!"
"Good Answer", she replied.

Thank you, everyone, for the wishes and gifts and for making me feel so loved.

Earlier that morning, my mother called to wish me a happy birthday and informed me that my grandfather died. He was 94 years old. It was 10 pm on Sunday night and he left in his sleep with a nurse at his side and a meditation tape playing softly in the background. He did not die of a disease, nor in any pain. He simply left his body.

I would like to take a moment to pay tribute to my grandfather Walt whom I called, "Gully". In his younger days he battled both alcoholism and depression. In his latter years he became withdrawn, and softer, more emotional. He liked to say a blessing at thanksgiving dinner and would make everyone hold hands...he always got choked up before he finished speaking. He was a voracious reader, he had a thing for Mexico and taught himself to speak Spanish. He played the guitar and the drums and had an accordion in the bedroom closet. Whenever he left me a message on my answering machine (which was rare), he always ended with "Love Grandpa... (pause)....Walt Kaminski" as if he was dictating a letter. (How I wish I saved them)

Dear Gully, Thank you for sitting me in the engineer's seat on the train to Manhattan and letting me blow the whistle , for family sing-a-longs, knishes, diving for coins...here's to your wingtips, your blue eyes, and your 94 years!!!