2002-10-23 - 10:09 p.m.
HAVING LIFE
When I am ninety, I want to be like my distant cousin Rose. I just heard the report of Rose�s birthday party�the second birthday party. The first one apparently consisted of her son taking Rose and her caretaker where Rose most wanted to go for her birthday: Las Vegas. While Vegas is not my idea of a good time, I want to have the lust for life that a trip to Vegas implies when I�m her age.
The second party was not exactly sedate either. Rose�s son hired Rose�s favorite entertainer. Rose knew of the entertainer because of performances at her adult day care center. So, among children, grandchildren, cousins, and friends, she enjoyed what she loved most: a 61 year old belly dancer. Rose may not always remember what she had for breakfast but she still remembers what she loves.
The side of my family that Rose comes from always worked hard and played hard. My great-aunt Sarah believed in love, family, unions, and cards�and not necessarily in that order. She taught card games to her nieces and nephews. Playing cards with Aunt Sarah was serious business. She never threw a game. Children had to earn a win. But oh how she celebrated those wins. In almost every memory I have of Aunt Sarah, she�s having a good time. Aunt Sarah didn�t make it to ninety but if she had she might have wanted to go to Vegas to celebrate.
In the day-to-day details of work and God and family, losing sight of the need for fun is all too easy. Rose and Sarah and that side of the family rarely lost sight of the fun. They knew that fun is what you make of it and when you wait for perfect fun you rarely get any fun worth mentioning. You seize what life throws at you�and laugh. You bury the dead one week and play cards another. You celebrate full-out with verve because good occasions are too rare to waste.
As the poet Edgar Lee Masters once wrote, �It takes life to love Life.*� The Roses, the Sarahs, and I, we have life.
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This quote is from the poem �Lucinda Matlock� in Spoon River Anthology.
LAST YEAR: My Father�s Daughter
LAST FIVE ENTRIES:
Being Counted
Welcome Back, I Think
Any Takers Out There?
The Guitar
The Mildew of Boredom
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Copyright 2006 by Ellen |
