Margie Ascendant

Some of our ornamental trees are in blossom, and we had a sudden heatwave today: 82F/28C, so Margie was in heaven. We walked to an avenue of blossoms, and she pushed her walker along, enthralled. (See Extra.) She was a little weak on her legs, so I suggested she sit on her walker for a few minutes under the blossoms.

She closed her eyes and told me, “It’s beach weather! I remember Jones Beach, where I used to go with Aunt Mildred and Uncle Herman. You stand in water up to your knees, and you see a wave coming and then you JUMP with it.”

Her body lifted visibly. “Oh, I can still feel it in my body, jumping in the waves. It’s all here. It never went away. I didn't lose any of it.”

I asked her how old she was, the last time she went to Jones Beach. 

“Oh, maybe seven or eight. How old am I now?”

Ninety-eight.

“My god. How is it possible? Ninety years ago. Here I am. One more Spring.”

Right now as I am writing this, the wind is whipping around my tenth-floor apartment like a hurricane. Tonight we will have thunderstorms and tomorrow the high will be only 58F/14C.