From a Member of the Silent Generation

                                                                                      

At the Easter Party this year (and last,) I sat on the sidelines as Hostess Emeritus and left the decisions and hard work to Justin, Claui, and a host of younger family and friends who have moved into the hosting role seamlessly.

It was such a pleasure to just sit and take pictures without having constantly to be on the alert for problems. Do we need more pork? Who will hide the eggs? Have the napkins run out? WHAT are those dogs doing now?

I also realized that I was now the type of rather wobbly, somewhat deaf partygoer that our late dear friends Paul and Grace had been. They attended the party well up into their eighties and beyond, assisted by kind neighbors. Everyone knew them—a local couple who had welcomed all the new people. And everyone wanted to have a word.

                                                     

As I sat in my chair near the barn, strategically located for taking pictures, various folks would stop by and chat a bit--especially folks I probably hadn't seen since last year. Funny thing--these days, the innocuous question “How are you?” especially when there’s an emphasis on the middle word, sounds a little to me like “What, still here?”

Rather than go into the saga of my funky right knee and my never-be-the-same left ankle, (not to mention the deafness which they can probably surmise from my repeated use of the word What?), I rather think I’ll start saying, “Not dead and I haven’t bitten anyone today.”

It was a wonderful, multi-generational gathering, and all the kids running about felt like hope for the future. 

My hope is that their future isn't a grim as current trends might indicate.