my grandpa wallace turned 90 years old last friday.
the picture above is when he opened my present of asheville bear poop.
on saturday 18 of his family members spanning 4 generations gathered to celebrate at noon in the card room of the palm beach condo highrise where he has lived for the past 50 years.
he made his grand entrance fashionably late using ski poles as canes and playing 'happy birthday' on his harmonica.
he grew up in providence, rhode island, as one of 5 boys raised by a single mother whose father abandoned the family when the youngest was 1. he was in the air force during world war 2, and then had 3 kids (including my dad), and spent his life drawing and doing architectural delineation, which he continued to do until very recently when his eyes and hands stopped cooperating. he worked very hard, and very well.
he has a great sense of humor, and great love for his wife margaret, who was so classy and chic that we grew up calling her 'lady margaret.' he is a very snazzy dresser - palm beach resort style - wearing white pants and white keds every time i've seen him in the past 35 years.
we spent a lot of the party looking at amazing old photos and newspaper clippings. his younger brother john brought a picture from the providence journal of his senior prom. lady margaret was cool with it.
one of the most touching parts of the day was when he played a few songs on harmonica for my nephew willie. willie was entranced. he would finish one song and willie would say, "more!"
what a life! 90 years - can you freakin imagine?
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