In an alternative line of history, I’d most likely be going down to Washington DC this weekend for a party. In this alternate history, today would have been my parents’ 60th anniversary. Falling on a Friday, dollars to donuts says we would have partied on Saturday. And what a party it would have been. 60 years is quite a long time; worth celebrating.
But my mother died thirty years ago, when she was younger than I am now. She never saw my kids or any of her other grandchildren. She never made it to the 21st century; never used an iPad or a smart phone. How she would have loved the Internet, early adopter that she was.
Then again, if that alternate history had come to pass, I’d only have four sibs instead of six; six nieces and nephews instead of nine. If I even had a daughter, she’d have a different name.
And in this timeline — which is really the only one that matters — I got to go to Washington two weeks ago for another party: my step-mother’s 80th birthday. And what a party it was! Well worth celebrating.
But for today, I’m allowed to think of that alternate history. Because 60 years is quite a long time.
To GHS and MRNJ: All my love, always.