Three-Day Birthday

It has been a most memorable three days. The occasion was my wife Karen’s 75^th birthday. From a tree or bird’s point of view, it must seem absurd that we treat one day as more special than another and equally absurd that the number 75 carries more weight than 74 or 76. But that’s how we humans are put together and the ¾’s of a century mark somehow seems significant and worthy of special attention. While I’m on the numbers, 28 is also my birthday date and the average of my kid’s 26 and 30 and February 28^th is also my lifelong colleague James’ birthday (61), my student from long ago still friend Julie “Ralf” Gottschalk’s birthday (65), my SF School alum student and son of Patty the cook Eddie Corwin’s 39^th birthday. Oh, and I’ve known Karen for 50 of her 75 years. 

 

So the day before her birthday, there was already a hike scheduled of a group of San Francisco School retired teachers who after some 20 to 40 years together immersed in our mutual life at school decided, “Why stop?” So every two months or so, we gather for a hike and given the timing, I suggested we add a little nod to Karen’s birthday. The 4^th grade teacher/ librarian/ gardener Solveig (who organizes the hikes) brought a tablecloth, plates and real silverware for our pot-luck lunch, with cake (no ice cream) included and while we feasted we had a go-around where everyone named their own notable news and then evoked a memory of a shared experience with Karen. It was a lovely way to bring our shared life out on the table alongside the delicious salads and cheeses and breads and to honor Karen without stooping to outworn adjectives (Awesome! Amazing!). Each story evoked others and the appreciations of moments spent with Karen blended into the collective gratitude for our life together—and equal appreciation that we were still keeping our forever community alive. After lunch was a hike on a gorgeous sunny day in the Palo Alto hills. Perfect!

The next day, Karen’s actual birthday, began with a normal morning of each of us in our morning routines. After lunch, we boarded the 44 bus that goes right past the SF School and I had ridden often. But never beyond San Bruno Avenue, where it entered neighborhoods wholly unfamiliar to me. We got off at the last stop and headed to India Basin Shoreline Park, all territory Karen had been exploring and was eager to share with me. All sorts of impressive monuments to the history of this part of the city and we walked along the water’s edge in 75-degree weather (ordered for Karen’s birthday number!) for some 4 hours before arriving at Chase Center to meet daughter Talia and boyfriend Matt for dinner at a new pizza restaurant with a lovely view. The plan was that her brother Barclay and his wife Lori from Wisconsin were going to be there for their surprise visit, which almost worked out perfectly, but due to a bad moment on speaker phone the night before with Talia, Karen suspected something was up. Still she was delighted to see them and the six of us enjoyed some remarkable pizza and lovely salads, despite the clamor of the noisy restaurant. I looked at my phone to see how much we had walked that day and another serendipitous moment—7.5 miles on her 75^th birthday on a day that hit 75 degrees. 

 

And onto to Day 3. 10 friends/family met in Golden Gate Park to walk its length and end up at the Hong Kong Lounge for Dim Sum where 10 other friends would meet us. We met at the carousel and began with a ride on the merry-go-round, stopped to hit the ping-pong ball 75 times over the net, then collectively score 75 points in cornhole. We stopped at one of the pianos on JFK drive to sing a birthday song, threw some leaves in a stream to have a race, paused at the fly fishing pools where her brother Barclay wished he could stay (he loves to fish!), gathered briefly at the house on Fulton St. where I first met Karen and then took the Fulton St. bus to make sure we got to lunch on time. 

 

Dim-sum was delicious and we had another ritual go-around where everyone shared where and when they first met Karen and their first impressions. Brother Barclay clearly had the record, “meeting” her when he was born in 1951. After that, six of us (included me) met her in 1974 (51 years ago!), one in 1975, several in the 80’s, a few in the 90’s and so on until Matt, who just met her last year. Outside for the requisite group photo and the party was over.

But not quite. Eight of us walked back to our house and continued on there with convivial conversation, a Taboo game and a dinner I cooked, with the cake Talia baked. I should have gone to the piano and had us all sing, “The Party’s Over” but darn, didn’t think of it and missed that opportunity.

 

Pardon me for an entry that makes more sense in a personal journal than a public one. But as always, I think there are universal threads here that might be of interest. The idea of a circle of appreciation with different kinds of prompts (share an experience together/ tell where and when and how you first met and your first impressions). Hiking in the natural world as a venue for celebration. Some games, if you’re so inclined (ping-pong/ cornhole/ leaf-racing/ Taboo). Of course, food, food, food—the potluck, the restaurants, the home-cooked meal. 

 

At the school gathering, I ended my sharing like this:

 

The life Karen and I have built and lived has a fair measure of rituals and celebrations. One has been to go see the plum blossoms every February up on Edgewood Terrace. The trees are old, but the blossoms are perpetually fresh and new. Like us. 

 

And then, in a lifetime of going to the movies, we went last week to one of the few remaining theaters to see the film “I’m Still Here.” That title reminding us that at the end of the day, that is something to celebrate. “We’re still here” and doing what we can to savor each moment of this one precious and extraordinary life, in company with so many of the marvelous people we’ve traveled it with. Happy birthday!