97!

 So today my suegra turns 97. Wow. Although she has declined quite a bit, I wouldn't be at all surprised if she makes the century mark. She's the essence of the word survivor.

Last Sunday, D2 and Jonathan returned from a friends' wedding up in Sanford, which I guess is near Orlando. I say I guess because I have truly become one of those crotchety old guys who rarely goes north of the Miami Dade/Broward line. I used to travel all over the state for business, and of course there were 9 years of visiting Gainesville for the Ds, but that's in the rear view mirror. Now I'm that guy who agrees I absolutely do NOT live in Florida. I live in Miami.

But anyway, the Pinecrest Roomies as Jonathan has named us returned, and Wifey and I were going to the Palace for a visit. D2 wanted to come along, and Jonathan, too, realizing his abuela by marriage may NOT be around much longer.

Given my dark sense of humor, I noted that it would be a mini version of March of the Living -- where Jews visit Poland and the Concentration Camps, to reflect on the horrors of our past, and then fly to Israel, where the celebrate and party in modern cities. I promised after the downer of the visit to the ALF, we'd go have a nice dinner and drinks. As I said -- my dark humor.

So Rachel was awake and in bed, refusing to eat her dinner except for the cake. Diabetes/schmiabetes. She has been living for years essentially on sugar.

The hospice nurse Marta was Colombian and spoke little English, but Jonathan was able to translate. Rachel went in and out -- sometimes she knew who Wifey was, and sometimes she confused her with D2. Strangely, though she has had a fraught relationship with me -- she ALWAYS knows who I am. Funny how the brain works.

After an hour or so, we left, and after our usual squabble about choosing a restaurant, we went to Cafe Catula, a neat place on Galloway off Sunset. It was early, and so mostly empty, but as we ate the crowd arrived. The food was terrific -- great fresh fish and Jonathan and I shared some oysters. I had two Ketels to soften the sadness of the visit, and we enjoyed ourselves.

We returned home to watch the season finale of "Succession," the HBO show we all watch together on Sunday nights. Mission accomplished.

And now we get to enjoy the final days of 2021. I like to be optimistic about the coming year. Lately that's been a fool's errand. As '19 ended, I seized upon the metaphor that 2020 would be a year of "perfect vision.," as we had a new grandchild, and D2 and Jonathan were to be married. Well -- there were great things, of course, but also a deadly pandemic, which caused great anxiety because of our little man and the unknown effects on him.

And then, it was adios to 2020, and a new year of only great things. Ha. As if. On January 15, Wifey had a stroke, and that set the tone for the first half of the year, with manifold doctors and rehab visits, and my unexpected early turn into her medical concierge and butler.

Thanks to the Big Man and Team Wifey, my dear friends who advised so well on her care, she was recovering nicely, and then one of our best friends, Elizabeth, dropped dead on a hiking trip in Utah.

So this coming year, I'll keep my predictions and optimism to myself, thank you very much.

Our plans, though, seem to be set. I DO enjoy celebrating NYE, and last year was a non starter because of the plague. This year, I get to watch the Canes at noon, and then at 8:30 we're meeting Kenny, Joelle, and their returned for the break son Adam, along with friend Diane, at Salvatore D's, an Italian place we love not too far from home.

Maria, Salvatore's wife, told me they have their regular menu, which I appreciate, as they don't rip off diners like many places with "special NYE packages."

Meanwhile, D2 and Jonathan are having some of their friends over the house after they return from a sailing trip on Biscayne Bay. It'll be fun to crash their party after our dinner -- and hopefully ring in '22 with the Millennials. 

But more significantly to our family, our beautiful grandson turns 2 on Friday. Wow. Lots went on while he grew from a peanut to a hilarious toddler. Wifey and I will take him out Friday to a local park -- no preschool that day -- and Sunday D1 is having a party for him.

Somehow 2 turns into dropping off at college faster than you can imagine.

And his great grandma is still here with us. What do you know?