My sister in law is taking care of her mother for the next few weeks. She is 103 years old and when arriving at Ann and Tom’s house she said she was cold and would like a whiskey. Ann poured her a spot of Jameson and she said “Ah, come on…make it a good one.”
Some of you may recall me writing about our neighbors across the street in Milton, Massachusetts. When we first met them, he was about 89 and she was around 85 years “young”.
Every afternoon they would sit on their sun porch and have one or two Irish whiskeys before sun set. Once a week they would drive down to one of the casinos in Connecticut to gamble and once a month up to New Hampshire to buy their liquor. The car, well it looked like it wouldn’t make it around the block.
They had 9 children and every year one of them would buy them a restaurant book with deals far and wide. Their son tells a story about them going to Anthony’s Pier 4 with one of the coupons.
The restaurant book had no deals on booze, but no matter, the car was set up with a mini bar and they would have a cocktail or two before dinner. He liked to park in an area with a view, she didn’t care. This particular day they parked near the side of the restaurant (nice view) and one of Boston’s finest came by and knocked on the window of the car. He asked them if they were drinking and he said yes. The cop politely asked them to move to a more discrete area. They did and finished their drinks.
These activities continued until they moved into an assisted living apartment. St. Agatha’s road was never the same again.
We went to visit them several times and upon returning from Ireland one year we were told that she had died.
I went to see him. He was now about 96 years “old” and he knew instantly who I was. Soon one of his daughters arrived and I left. As I walked to the elevator, she told me a story about her mother.
She was walking her mother around the complex and her mother asked “Does this place have a bar?” … they had lived there going on 4-5 years by now…and she said “No Ma…they don’t.” “Do they have a suggestion box around here?” “No Ma they don’t.” “Well they should and you know what I would suggest?” Three hours later she died peacefully.
So…make it a good one…for that matter, make it a few good ones.
Several pieces of furniture from their Milton home gracefully occupy our home in Clonegal/Abbeydown, Ireland and every time I sit at the dining room table I think of them and raise my glass of Irish whiskey. Cheers!