My (older) baby turned 19 yesterday.
That means next year he'll be 20. No longer a teenager. How can he be 20 when I still feel 18?
(I think I'll save the rest of the midlife crisis whine until July, when Younger Son turns 16. Stay tuned.)
For his birthday OS wanted (and received) season tickets to the Montreal Alouettes Football games. The Alouettes recently (last year or the year before) moved back to their old home, Molson Stadium, on the McGill campus. The stadium is so cozy and intimate, and has such wonderful ghosts, that football is experiencing a resurgence in Montreal unseen since the glory days of the 50's and 60's.
(Molson Stadium is not to be confused with the Molson Center, the newly-built hockey and concert arena. The Stadium is named after a McGill graduate and war hero, Percival Molson, and was built in 1919. It's perched near the top of Mount Royal, the perfect place to spend an autumn weekend afternoon.)
He also had a day off work, since his job is to phone businesses in the US, and it was Memorial Day. He hung around with his father, who took him out to lunch (with his uncle, whose birthday is later in the week) and did some work in the yard. Later he demolished a birthday cake and had the traditional plate-licking contest with his brother. Birthday boy won. We are so proud.
This type of day is perfectly satisfactory to him. He's often like a little old person in character and habits. It's cute, if exasperating at times.
In other news..
My father continued his habit of scheduling important things on my kids' birthdays. In previous years it was usually air travel but this year he had to scale down his activities somewhat, so it's doctor appointments. He claims he doesn't do it on purpose, but managed to hit both dates, yet again.
Yesterday we went to the family physician to check on some numbness that Stepmom has been experiencing in her hands. It's probably nothing serious, but she forgets that she's consulted doctors about it and every time it happens, several times a day, asks my father about it. Her memory continues to worsen and it appears that more trouble lies ahead. I'm enjoying the lull while I can.
Daddy's attitude is really amazing. I ask him if he can handle her and her condition, and he always says yes. I don't know if it's denial, old-fashioned committment, or what, but he is with her, come what may. He momentarily loses patience - quite often - but I think I'd be more worried if he didn't. At least her personality hasn't changed, as often happens with the elderly, so he still has his loving companion in the here and now, which is all she has.
And of course I did stay up the other night to watch the space shuttle landing. This time they had a camera in the shuttle cockpit, transmitting the pilot's view as the runway rushed up to greet him. Then they switched to a rear view of the shuttle, now on the ground, bathed in artificial light against the backdrop of the Florida night sky (which I always found to be much darker than the sky up north.. must be a tilted-earth-axis thing..) I'm just old and naive enough to find it majestic and almost unbelievable.
And for that matter.. did they REALLY send people to the moon thirty years ago, when computers ran on hamster power and Bill Gates was a mere teenager?
I've linked to this journal before, and it's always been good, but lately it seems to have raised the bar (or something) and become absolutely delightful. Besides, the author is changing webhosts so that provides me with another excuse to link it again.
The author teaches "Anguish" in a community college in Kansas. (Where were teachers like that when I was in school?????) Much of the journal revolves around his three sons and family life. This month the eldest son graduated from high school, and the photo scrapbook entry of this event is a must-see.. as is the account of the visiting grandparents' arrival.
And if you've ever attended a meeting of any sort.. check out this entry.