We spent last weekend in Chicago celebrating the 100th birthday of Jim’s Aunt Isabelle! We could hardly keep up with her. No kidding. The Big Party was on Saturday at Chestnut Square, where Isabelle lives, but the real festivities began the Monday before. Isabelle told us that at Mass that evening, the entire congregation sang Happy Birthday to her – something she had never heard in Church before! Then on Wednesday, the actual birthday day, the real fuss began with breakfast delivered to her room, fussing over her all day and a champagne toast in the evening. She told us they made her sit down – like a queen – and everyone came to her. By the time we arrived on Friday, Isabelle was showing off her stack of Birthday Cards and gleefully repeating the events of the week to date.
Isabelle’s birthday brought together 72 family members and friends for the party. Kids from the fourth generation below her were there. It was exactly what you might expect with wonderful old family pictures, recitations of memories and family stories. Nephews and nieces arranged, hosted, performed and literally rolled out a red carpet. We shipped plenty of wine ahead (45 bottles) and it thrilled us, at the end, when people were “officially” thanked to hear an actual roar of applause for the wine!
A major highlight of the evening was a video recorded in Arizona of Isabelle’s 102 year-old boyfriend, Ray. She says he was “getting a little too close” 80 years ago, one New Year’s Eve…. On the video, he talked about that New Year’s and the old days, told her he knew they wouldn’t see each other again but that she is in his arms and heart. Most of us were weeping our hearts out. At the end of this sweet piece, Isabelle got herself up, grabbed the microphone from her nephew Bob’s hands and said, in no uncertain terms, “I never married him because I didn’t want to be a farmer’s wife!” No regrets about that or about anything else. She’s remarkable.
If I had to pick a highlight of the weekend itself, this would be it: Jim and I had brunch with Isabelle on Sunday, after church. We don’t see her often enough and were touched that she wanted to have us spend the time with her. Brunch is no small affair at Chestnut Square, consisting of everything from omelets to roast beef to bagels and lox, baked fish, lasagne, lots of salads and about 12 different dessert cakes and pies plus cookies and rugelah. Isabelle mentioned during the meal, which took quite a long time to consume, that a rule had been established about people taking food away from the brunch because too much was disappearing to residents’ apartments. Now it’s eat it or leave it.
As we were leaving, Jim helped Isabelle by carrying her coat and scarf (you don’t offer your arm to her because, usually, she is ten paces ahead of you wherever you go….). He was about to pick up the bulletin from the church but she stopped him fast and told him she needed that to hide the cookies she was stealing from brunch! Sure enough, she had the cookies concealed inside her palm and the bulletin deftly folded between her fingers so she could make a clean getaway.
Now I have hope for the future – a boyfriend and stolen cookies – should I need either commodity. Life is good.
