This past weekend Cat turned 50. I know, hard to believe. For her too. Although it helps that I had crossed the threshold four years ago, so she had some time to get used to the idea.
We had a great party to celebrate with her. Both Hugh and Dawn, her parents, were able to be there, and as well, three of her four sibs, all flown in from Vancouver for the weekend. Pictured here from left to right, Charlie, Francis, Catharine, and Prisca. Laurence, who is scouting out locations for his family in Jakarta, is understandably missing.
Although the party wasn't a surprise, their visits were. Prisca casually wandered in to the kitchen on Thursday and asked if she might stay for supper. Cat nearly had a bird on the spot. Charlie repeated the scene at breakfast Friday morning, having spent the night flying the red eye. And Francis managed to sneak in during the party prep on Friday, late afternoon, so that Cat almost bumped into him in the kitchen. Great happiness and tears in each case. She really was touched by them and their efforts to be with her.
Lots of family and friends joined us. Everyone having a good time as far as I could tell. And the highlight was a poem by Alexander, read aloud by Charles (Alex was in Montreal and unhappily unable to be there). Here it is.
There are days when I’d rather stay at home
With chicken soup, you brewed the bone to make
A witchy stew. But then I’d rather roam
Away from you with hands and feet that flake,
With breaks and aches that match my shifting mind,
Doubts about which you can always surmise,
Because I am your child, on my face lies
Unspoken thoughts, easy for you to find.
Weight feels less heavy and bones feel less sore,
Nights I come wandering back through the door.
Words of wisdom bring me in from the wild.
Greyhound-bound and all my troubles are mild,
A lighthouse beacon, a maternal star,
One thing I know, peace is wherever you are.
Fran posted a bunch of photos here