It’s that time of year,
Leave all our hopelessnesses aside
Tears stop right here,
I know we’ve all had a bumpy ride
Well, compared to recent years, Thanksgiving 2016 was relatively uneventful. DooDaddy successfully navigated the sunken living room of our dear friends’ home on his walker and only broke one piece of original artwork, as he reached for his “vodka rocks” (with a splash and a twist). We had a lovely evening with good conversation and even better food. Only Morena Constantinou can make Brussels sprouts taste like heaven. We’ve been celebrating Thanksgiving together on and off for nearly 20 years now, as our lives have intertwined and our children have grown up.
There have been some notable exceptions.
Just as people remember severe snowstorms, I vividly remember the Geezerpocalypse of 2014, when an ambulance arrived just as we were sitting down to our Thanksgiving feast, and a favorite geezer died shortly thereafter. But not from my cooking. It was just his time. The morale of that story is four geezers is a whole lotta old folks to wrangle out in the wild, and somebody’s bound to get hurt. It’s all fun and games till the wheels come off the walkers.
On a more peaceful note, let’s take a look back at Thanksgiving 2015, a world away now. In hindsight, it seems like the writing was on the wall that my mother’s days were numbered. As she was fond of saying, “Life is short. Eat dessert first.”
First of all, let me say it was a Very Geezer Thanksgiving. Nothing like last year’s festivities with four walkers and a firetruck, but festive in its own way. I smuggled a flask into the Old Folks’ Home to create the requisite warm holiday glow. We waited in the buffet line, jostled by cotton tops, still wearing their purses, lest they miss out on the feast. It was the geezer version of Black Friday shopping.
Gmamma and DooDaddy are fine, although Gmamma is winding down like a worn-out Energizer Bunny. Well, she was never the Energizer Bunny. But picture an antique porcelain doll with pale sky-blue eyes and a big key in her back, slo-mo-ing and tilting forward in her tracks. That’s Gmamma.
I think she’s only staying around to ward off the rabid female fan base of DooDaddy’s, powdered and garishly lipsticked, fluttering around him like dusty butterflies in a diorama.
“Behave,” she admonished DooDaddy, as we left for her most recent dentist appointment.
More later. I’ve hit a rough patch but am plodding through the puddles and gingerly stepping around the sinkholes. Hoping for smooth roads or better treads ahead. And yes, Adele’s new album is the soundtrack of my life.
The road hasn’t gotten any smoother since last year, and we still have a bumpy ride ahead of us. And yes, Adele. Stay tuned and fasten your seatbelts. It’s going to be a Very Geezer Christmas!