celebrating phyllis at 85

It starts this way.

“I’d like to do something special for my 85^th.  Maybe go away like we did on my 80^th”.  

This is last May.  My mom’s birthday is September 26.

When my mom turned 80 five years ago, my sisters, my mom and I spent two days and nights in Provincetown together.  It was perfect.

“But mom,“ I say, when we begin the discussion. “It’s never as good the second time around.  Let’s do something different this year.”

And so begins a 4-month conversation and search.

We look at other places on the Cape.

“I don’t want to go to Chatham Bars Inn,” my mom proclaims early in the process.  Valerie and I love it there.

“What about Wequassett?  That’s nice.”

“No, I don’t want to stay in Chatham.”

We’ve now eliminated the two nicest resorts on the Cape.

“How about a three-day cruise in autumn?” my mom suggests.  “We could go up the coast to Canada.”

We search cruises.  All the ones we’d even consider are five days or more, so that’s out.

Then comes the consideration of resorts not on the Cape, but drivable from both Boston and New York.

“What about the Cranwell Inn in Lenox Mass?”  I’ve stayed there a few times and loved it.

“No, I don’t really want to go to the Berkshires.”

We find two great places in Newport, but they are both exorbitantly priced.

We move on to Vermont.

“The Equinox looks nice.”

But then Valerie correctly points out that there is really nothing to do there.  

And finally, an idea surfaces that everyone loves. 

“Let’s celebrate in New York,” Valerie suggests.

It takes about 700 emails to find three dates when everyone is free.  My two sisters have very busy lives. 

But finally, we find them.

And tonight begins day one.

Valerie is meeting us tomorrow, so Jean, my mom and I have dinner at 83 ½.

The food is truly amazing. 

Before we finish dinner, we have befriended the diners on both sides of us.  To our left is a table for four. My mom offers (and the man shockingly accepts) a taste of her duck.  At the table to our right, we learn that this newly coupled (and exceedingly boisterous) twosome (both 63) are having more sex than they have ever had in their lives.  They are so talkative that by the time we leave, the guy from the twosome is sitting at our table and sharing stories of the Cape with my mom (whom they both thought was our sister).  She does look beautiful tonight, and hardly looks her age.

It’s a great start to our three-day celebration.