61 today. Wow. Old dog. I can never escape the frustrated English teacher in me, seeing symbolism everywhere. I think in puns, which can be funny, but also onerously boring. Hey -- what are ya gonna do?
I was up early performing my few tasks before the onslaught of bris guests arrive. I walked the dogs, and put them away in the room above the garage, which thankfully has a new AC, so I won't have to deal with dead dogs on my birthday. I parked the cars on the street. I placed the balloons on the mailbox, as a beacon for first time visitors -- some of Joey's Colombian family is coming for the first time, I think. And then the wonderful catering sisters arrived -- longtime friends of my consuegros from Bogota.
And then I dropped some letters in the box as outgoing mail -- affidavits to Bank of America to close out my suegra Rachel's account. The balance was $100.17. B o A can be terrible with paperwork -- I already told Wifey that if they require more documentation, I plan to do nothing, and let them send me years of correspondence to get that $100.17. It will eventually escheat to the state, and then the Ds can retrieve it when they get one of those "you may have unclaimed government funds" emails.
But the symbolism, of course, is that as we welcome the newest baby into our tribe, we've just said goodbye to the oldest. Circle of life.
And speaking of life, I had an unexpected visit last night. I was surfing on the computer, as I often do, and my neighbor Will called. He generally only calls with an issue, and he wanted to tell me that a pair of guys had a black Benz parked, and were taking pictures of my house from the street. They "don't look very menacing," but he figured I ought to know -- it was kind of late for realtor shots --- and we ain't moving, no-how.
I walked to the front and a pair of gents came closer -- it was Richard, the fellow we bought the house from, and his friend, and Italian born architect who he was visiting! I welcomed them in, and gave the architect the tour -- Richard wanted to show off his masterpiece.
He had a star crossed life after he moved to West Palm. His beautiful wife Jennifer had serious mental illness, and several years back, shot and killed their two beautiful kids, and then herself. It made international news.
I was never sure how Richard lived on after that, but he did -- building his realty business in West Palm, and becoming a major fundraiser for Dreyfoss School, which his kids attended.
And, to show he really has moved on, he has a new girl friend -- a Russian born swimsuit model! He was here in Miami because she was part of Miami Swim Week, where the designers all show off their newest swimwear.
If I was a viejo verde, or dirty old man, I may have wished to attend that event.
Anyway, Wifey came home while the gents were visiting, and Richard showed us pictures of Anastasia. Later, I asked if Wifey felt bad for me that I didn't have a Russian born swimsuit model girlfriend. She said she did not feel at all bad for me.
But again -- here a man who built the house where we have had so many precious, nay, priceless memories, himself suffered such a tragedy. And now, he must bury his grief in the arms of a 25 year younger model.
Kidding aside, it shows you never know what life is going to throw you.
But for today, I'm thrilled to be here -- meeting our now one week old grandson -- colds all well in the past -- and celebrating his entry into our tribe.
Not a too shabby birthday at all. And I give thanks to the Big Man, as always.
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