A change of pace (day 29)

I've spent the last three days near Philadelphia visiting a 99 year old woman, Virginia H, who by this point is really family though not by blood. When my mom fled Iowa for NYC in 1938 Virginia was one of the first people she met. They remained friends till my mom died in 2004. My mom never new how old she was, only that she was a bit older than she was. Virginia shepherded my brother, sister (her namesake), and myself through varying stints in NYC.

When I was making my big break in theater in the city in 75 and 76, she supplied many free tickets to shows which she got through her job working for Mt. Sinai hospital. It was a tremendous gift. I would never have seen a tenth of the shows I did without her. She read my first novel and came to see all the productions I designed in New York.

More importantly she was an icon in our family of a person who simply lived her life on her terms and to the fullest. She always worked for non-profit organizations because if she had to work, she wanted to work for things she approved of. She never had an apartment larger than a studio but had saved enough over the years to travel extensively. She was one of the few people I ever knew who really took advantage of New York. She went on walking tours, to concerts, museums, and always deeply involved in politics--a lifelong hardcore democrat. In many ways she is the perfect model of "Monsieur" in the play I'm working on, though that was not in my head when I started the play, except that Virginia has always been in my head.

At 99 she is showing signs of failing. My sister and I had the trip planned because she'd had to move out of her own apartment and into an assisted care apartment. But last Sunday, just a couple days before we were to go, my sister got a call that Virginia had fallen. She had walked to the TV to change the channel to watch the Republican debates. She tripped, or something happened, and she leaned on the TV for support. It, however, was on a roll-around cart and fell on her. Initial reporrts were lots of bruising, severe abrasions, and broken ankle. Not good things at 99.

We arrived on Thursday at the hospital to find her nodding off and looking as bad as people do in hospitals--especially at 99, but she awoke delighted to see us and began to quip away. Depite appearances, she was all Virginia. Even as we met with her the doctor came in, the break was only a stress fracture, so she could go back to the assisted care apartment that afternoon.

She's up to the minute on politics (well the hospital stay meant she'd missed Weiner resigning) and ready to discuss events around the world. She worries about where things are going but reins it in with a sense of humor Jon Stewart would envy. She's not worried about tomorrow because there's today to live. She and my mom had bonded I think because Virginia had fled Kansas just as mom had Iowa. Virginia seems to have gone to NYC looking for a good time--she got it, and she continues to have one.

She always seemed immortal. Seeing her the last few days it seems clear that she's not--but damn she's close. It doesn't really matter when she goes (to her as well) because each day has been complete--she's angry about the fall--because she missed the debate. But she's watching the coverage of leadership conference in Florida so she'll catch up.

She did not impart any words of wisdom--I don't think she ever has, certainly has never done so intentionally, indeed she mainly just listened to us and caught up on family news--and politics of course. But she had a blast and so did we. That's wisdom.